I 
i 



I 



KING PHILIP. 



J 



PICTORIAL HISTORY 



O F 

KING PHILIP'S ¥AR; 

C O M P R 1 S I N G 

A FULL AND MINUTE ACCOUNT OF ALL THE MASSACRES, BATTLES, 
CONFLAGRATIONS, AND OTHER THRILLING INCIDENTS 
OF THAT TRAGIC PASSAGE IN 

A M E R I CAN H I S T O R Y . 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION; CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT 

OF THE 

INDIAN TRIEES, THEIR MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. 



Bv DANIEL STROCK, Jr. 



fSSntlj 100 n s r <t b t Jigs, from ©rtgiital ©tst'sns, 
By W. CROOME. 




PUBLISHED BY HORACE WENTWORTH, 

86 WASHINGTON STREET 

185 5 



0 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by 
CASE, TIFFANY & Co., 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the 
District of Massachusetts. 



PHILADELPHIA: 
STEREOTYPED BY GEORGE CHARLES. 

No. 9 Sansom Street. 



The War of King Philip, so deservedly famous in 
the history of New England, was by far the most 
formidable and disastrous of all the Indian w r ars 
which have ever taken place within the territory now 
belonging to the United States. The New England 
colonies are considered to have been retarded in their 
advance at least half a century by the loss of lives 
and property inflicted on them by Philip and his 
warriors ; while, to the Indians themselves, the war 
resulted in little short of entire extermination. The 
history of so important and influential a war as this 
must always possess great interest for Americans; 
and it has been the author's aim to treat it in a manner 
commensurate with its importance. His materials 

(3) 



4 



PREFACE. 



were tolerably ample. Besides the contemporary 
accounts of Hubbard and Church, and the notices in 
Belknap and Drake, he had several modern histories 
of Indian wars, in which this is treated more or less 
at large, and a complete and minute narrative, by 
Francis Baylies, Esq., in his " Historical Memoir of 
the Colony of New Plymouth." 

From these and other materials, the author of the 
present work has endeavoured to produce a clear and 
full narrative of this remarkable war, such as would 
place the scenes before the reader vividly and im- 
pressively. By the aid of that accomplished artist, 
W. Croome, Esq., he is enabled to present the reader 
with pictorial embellishments also, which will serve 
to strengthen and render lasting the reader's remem- 
brance of those thrilling events of our early colonial 
history, which posterity should never forget. 



LIST 



OP 

FMRCifAl 8UUSTRAT80NS. 

Portrait of King Philip Frontispiece 

Vignette. Arms and Trophies • • • • Title-page 

Elliott instructing tee Indians 39 

Death of Sassamon • 57 

Soldiers discussing the Portents and Signs 68 

Philip crossing Taunton River on a Raft of Logs 

Attack on the Wagon Train 104 

Escape of Lieutenant Cooper • • 109 

The Nipmuck and Lancaster Indians planning the attack on Lancaster 138 

Defence of Mr. Rowlandson's House - • • 142 

Attack on Northampton 150 

Attack on Seekonk 166 

Canonchet • • 175 

Flight "OF the Indians 225 

Death of Pomham • • • • • - 233 

Captain Church's Visit to the Saconets 249 

Honest George 256 

Peter 261 

Church going to Plymouth • • 267 

Philip's visit to Mount Hope • 275 

Narrow Escape of Philip 300 

Church killing a Chief • 317 

Death of Philip 346 

Capture of Annawon 379 

Escape of Captain Frost • 419 

(5) 



Pbepace • - — 3 

List of Illustrations 5 

Introduction * 9 

CHAPTER I. 

Causes of King Philip's War • 46 

CHAPTER n. 

Commencement of the War— Philip driven from Mount Hope 61 

CHAPTER in. 

Church's Fight at Pocasset • 73 

CHAPTER IV. 

Escape of Philip from Pocasset - - 82 

CHAPTER V. 

The War in the Nipmuck Territory— Defence of Brookfield 90 

CHAPTER VI. 

Defence of Hadley • • • 96 

CHAPTER VII. 

Springfield and Hatfield attacked- ........... : 108 

CHAPTER Vni. 

Union of the New England Colonies 112 

CHAPTER IX. 

Destruction of the Nap.ragansetts - 117 

CHAPTER X. 

Pursuit of the fugitive Narragansetts 130 

CHAPTER XL 

Destruction of Lancaster 136 

CHAPTER XII. 

Defence of Northampton 146 

CHAPTER XITL t 

Burning of Medfield — 152 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Battle of Attleborough Gore 159 

CHAPTER XV. 

Destruction of Seekonk and Providence — Indian courtesies to Roger Williams 165 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Capture and Death of Canonchet 171 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Attack on Scituate — Anecdote of Mrs. Ewell— Taunton spared by Philip— Attack on 
Bridgewater • 180 

(7) 



8 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XVIII.: r«« 
Destruction op Geoton and Marlborough ••- 187 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Attack on Sudbury— Ambush— Terrible fate of Wadsworth's Party— Alarm at Boston 194 
CHAPTER XX. 

Captain Church retires to Rhode Island 200 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Battle at the Upper Falls of the Connecticut • - 208 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Attack on Hatfield and Hadlet • 214 

CHAPTER XXni. 

Expedition of Major Talcott, and termination of the War in the Connecticut Valley- 220 
CHAPTER XXIV. 

Many Indians Surrender— Death of Pomham- ••' 228 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Philip attacks Taunton and visits Mount Hope 237 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Captain Church enters the service of the Plymouth Colony 243 

CHAPTER XXVIL 

Church's Visit to the Saconets 253 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Church's Treaty with Awashonks, Queen of the Saconets • 263 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Desolate condition of Philip — Church conducts the War • • • ~ 274 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Captain Church's Expedition to Mattapoiset 282 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

Philip repulsed from Brldgewater 293 

CHAPTER XXXn. 

Narrow Escape of Philip 29S 

CHAPTER XXXni. 

Fate of Philip's Wife and Child • • • 304 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Philip driven into a Swamp by Church— His Escape 311 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

Death of Barrow and Totoson 322 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Adventures and Fate of Weetamoo 328 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Reflections On Philip's situation— He is driven to Mount Hope 335 

CHAPTER XXXVni. 

Death and Character of King Philip 344 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Church's Pursuit of Annawon 363 

CHAPTER XL. 

Capture and Death of Annawon— Surrender of Tuspaquin 373 

CHAPTER XLI. 

Close of the War in Massachusetts and Rhode Island 392 

CHAPTER XLII. 

Sketch of the War in Maine and New Hampshire, in the Years 1675 to 1678 403 

Appendix » - „ 445 



Philip of Mount Hope is one of the few Indian 
chiefs, who are acknowledged by the white man to 
have been truly great. His fame increases with the 
lapse of years. A century and a half ago he was 
stigmatized by the historian and divine as a rebel, a 
murderer, a monster accursed of God and man. 
Fifty years later, the descendants of those who had 
quartered his lifeless remains, and sold his child into 
the burning slavery of the tropics, read the story of 
his misfortunes with sorrow, and found in it excuse 
for the evils he inflicted upon their fathers. Now, 
Philip is regarded as a hero and a patriot, to whom 
all our sympathies would be given, were it not that 
this fierce battle was waged against our own ances- 
tors. 

The magnitude of Philip's operations against New 

England, deserves, it would seem, a careful attention 

from the historian. Hitherto this has not been given. 

2 w 



10 



INTRODUCTION. 



Our principal histories of the United States are oc- 
cupied with a sketch, sometimes incorrect in facts, 
always meager of the principal events. The histo- 
ries of Philip's war, of which there are several, are 
mostly copied from the old accounts written during 
the contest, and for that reason, mere caricatures, 
while the many volumes on Indians, preclude, on 
account of their plans, an extended notice of any 
particular war. Add to this the contradictory nature 
of much information in these books, and it will be 
admitted that a history of King Philip's war is yet 
a desideratum. To supply this, as far as possible, 
is the object of the following pages. 

Without having an accurate conception of the 
relative condition of parties at the commencement of 
a war, no reader can fully understand its subsequent 
operations. We purpose, therefore, to introduce our 
subject by a sketch of the Indian tribes of New Eng- 
land prior to 1675 ; of the ancestors of Philip, and of 
the relative forces of the colonists and their opponents. 

The trials endured by the pilgrim fathers imme- 
diately after landing at Plymouth, their disputes or 
amicable relations with the surrounding tribes, and 
the protection extended to them by Massasoit, are too 
well known to be repeated in detail. In general the 
disposition of the Indians was favourable to the rapid 
increase of their white neighbours, and in the follow- 
ing generation, the colonists had extended their settle- 
ments, in scattered portions, from Cape Cod to Provi- 
dence, and westward to the Connecticut. Hence the 
strength and position of nearly all the important 



INTRODUCTION. 



11 



tribes became known, intercourse was established 
with them, and they quickly learned the arts and 
manners of the colonists. 

The Nipmucks occupy an important place in the 
history of Philip's war. Their territory was a large 
and beautiful tract of land situated in Massachusetts, 
about half way between Boston and the Connecticut. 
Wachusett mountain, on account of its beauty and 
splendid scenery, was the favourite seat of its Sachems. 
The Nipmucks, compared with the neighbouring 
tribes, were neither numerous nor powerful. They 
freely admitted missionaries among them, and were 
at one time governed by a woman. The small rivers 
which flowed toward the Connecticut supplied them 
with excellent fish ; the woods and mountains with 
every variety of game ; and from the colonists they 
received supplies of powder, blankets, and other 
necessaries. As a tribe, they seem to have been ,more 
harmless and peaceful than their red brethren ; and 
to this circumstance was no doubt owing the fact, 
that they frequently suffered from the inroads of 
others. The Mohawks were their most dreaded 
enemies. These fierce warriors sometimes entered 
the Nipmuck country, burned the villages, murdered 
the warriors, destroyed or seized their provisions, and 
retired, carrying with them women, children, and 
scalps. The Nipmuck women appear to have been 
famous for their skill in weaving baskets, mattresses, 
ornamental dresses, and the fibrous part of bark 
canoes. This tribe was associated with Philip at the 
beginning of the war, but subsequently deserted him. 



12 



INTROD UCTION. 



Far superior to the Nipmucks in number and im- 
portance were the Narragansetts. They occupied 
almost the entire territory which forms the present 
state of Rhode Island , extending west to the now 
Thames river in Connecticut, and northward to the 
territory of the Nipmucks. Of all the native tribes 
inhabiting New England at the time of its settle- 
ment, the Narragansetts were most dreaded by the 
English. The story of Canonicus is known to every 
schoolboy, and the deadly feud between his successor, 
Miantonomoh, and Uncas, the ally of the colonists, 
is the theme of many a pathetic tale in prose and 
verse. They are described in the early records, as 
peculiarly jealous of their independence, impatient of 
control, haughty, vindictive, savage, and treacherous. 
Perhaps for the first two qualities, few will, at the 
present day, blame them; and their treatment of 
Roger Williams, the influence he acquired over their 
chiefs, and their fidelity to Philip, might cause sus- 
picion, even in the absence of stronger evidence, that 
the bad qualities of the Narragansetts have been 
overrated. In many cases they were treated most 
unjustly, and though a treaty was concluded with 
them in July, 1675, yet as a preliminary, Captain 
Hutchinson, commissioner for Massachusetts, marched 
into their territory with his whole force, and com- 
pelled the acceptance of its terms. The breach of a 
treaty so enforced was denounced as treachery and 
rebellion. These Indians, however, did not join 
Philip at the commencement of the war, otherwise 
its result might have been different. Their force was, 



INTRODUCTION. 



13 



at that time, estimated by themselves at four thousand 
warriors. 

In the southern part of Rhode Island, in what is 
now South Kingston and north of Charlestown, there 
is a small upland of three or four acres, surrounded 
by low meadows, which in seasons of heavy rain, 
are partially submerged by water. The distant farm- 
house and the fields of grain around attest the dili- 
gence of the farmer. In the days of Philip, these 
meadows were covered by a swamp, inaccessible ex- 
cept by secret paths ; and on the upland or island in 
the middle the Narragansetts passed their winters, 
Here they parched their corn, repaired their canoes, 
blankets, and wampum belts, and prepared to join 
Philip in the spring. Here too, amid the snows of a 
New England winter, their warriors were cut off and 
their little ones massacred. At that time the swamp 
was surrounded by water. 

The Mohegans, of Connecticut, which had se- 
parated from the Pequots before the destruction of 
the latter by the English. Their territory lay be- 
tween the Connecticut and the Thames; but the 
boundary on the north was a subject of dispute with 
neighbouring tribes. Uncas was their principal 
Sachem. They early formed an alliance with the 
English, and throughout Philip's war were of great 
assistance in tracing the hiding-places of the hostile 
Indians, and engaging them after the Indian fashion. 
The Mohegans were noted for bravery and a spirit of 
adventure. The principal seat of the chieftains was 
at the mouth of the Thames. 

2 



14 



INTRODUCTON. 



The Wampanoags, Philip's own tribe, possessed an 
extent of country, which, when we consider the 
peaceable disposition of Massasoit, appears surprising. 
They appear to have exercised sway over the petty 
tribes of the interior as far west as the Nipmucks; 
while their own territories stretched from Massachu- 
setts Bay and Cape Cod through the disputed tracts 
north of the Narragansett country to the bay of that 
name. Their influence was courted or dreaded by 
all the surrounding tribes, and had they been hostile 
to the pilgrims instead of friendly, an occasion for 
Philip's war would most probably never have occurred. 
The seat of their Sachems was Mount Hope, a hand- 
some eminence within the present boundaries of 
Rhode Island. We will return to this tribe while 
giving an account of Philip's ancestors. 

Beside these large tribes, many smaller ones were 
more or less extensively engaged in Philip's war. 
Some of these were scattered along the eastern shores 
of the Connecticut, whose waters supplied them with 
fish, while the adjoining forests afforded them all 
varieties of game. Other small tribes inhabited the 
territories of the Mohegans, Nipmucks, and Narra- 
gansetts. These, for the most part, led a desultory 
life, being in some cases dependent for their very 
existence upon the generosity of their neighbours. 
A majority of them united with Philip. A number 
of the Pequots, who had survived the destruction of 
their nation, were distributed among the Nipmucks 
and Wampanoags. They were mortal foes to the 
colonists, and joined heartily in the design to extirpate 



INTRODUCTION. 



15 



them. The tribes of Maine and New Hampshire, 
though a few of them were at times engaged in the 
war, were too remote from the centre of operations 
to merit a particular notice. 

This sketch of the Indian tribes of 1675 would be 
incomplete without some notice of the Mohawks. 
They were perhaps the fiercest and most dreaded of 
all the tribes within the limits of the old thirteen 
colonies. Their conquests extended from Canada to 
Virginia, and from Niagara Falls to the Connecti- 
cut. The acknowledged leaders of the confederacy 
of the six nations, they had assumed a haughty bear- 
ing towards neighbouring tribes, and exacted tribute 
of them in a manner most humiliating. When a 
tribe refused to comply with their demands, they 
beat or put to death its chief men, and exacted the 
tribute forcibly. The appearance of a Mohawk in 
an Indian village was sufficient to create the greatest 
confusion and anxiety. It is probably to the dread 
inspired by these formidable savages, rather than to 
their actual habits, that we are to ascribe the old story 
of their being cannibals ; yet it is certain that amid 
the fury of battle, or while torturing a prisoner, they 
sometimes cut pieces of flesh from the victim and ate 
them. According to their traditions, they came from 
some distant region of the west, conquered all the 
tribes that opposed them, and established themselves 
along the Great Lakes. During Philip's war they 
made a descent upon New England, and totally de- 
feated the unhappy king, a circumstance which 
greatly accelerated his destruction. 



16 



INTRODUCTION. 



The form of government, if it may be called such, 
among the Indians of New England, was similar to 
that of most of the tribes within the United States. 
The sachems possessed considerable authority, yet 
rather from the reverence inspired by their character, 
than from any actual power to enforce their com- 
mands. Whenever a question of public interest 
occurred, all the warriors were convened to deliberate 
upon it. In these assemblages the aged chiefs spoke 
first, and their opinions met with grave consideration; 
but if they failed to carry conviction there was no 
authority to enforce it. Those who had distinguished 
themselves in war spake next ; but it frequently 
happened that the council was ruled in its decision 
by the eloquence of some orator renowned for wis- 
dom and patriotism. It will readily be perceived 
how well suited were such deliberations to train the 
Indian youth in that style of masculine eloquence for 
which they were remarkable. After the council had 
made its decision, it depended upon the patriotism of 
the tribe to enforce it ; for should a minority of the 
warriors refuse their assent, the majority had no 
means of compelling their submission. War parties 
were, for the most part, composed of volunteers, but 
such, was the enthusiasm created, by the mere rumour 
of war, that no difficulty was experienced in summon- 
ing all the warriors of a tribe around their chief. 

Great authority was exercised over the Indians by 
their pow-wows or medicine men. A pow-wow was 
at once physician, priest, and conjurer. He professed 
ability to cure all diseases; to interpret the will of 



INTRODUCTION. 



17 



the Great Spirit as revealed in signs, omens, dreams, 
or accidents, and to control the secrets of nature and 
of the invisible world. By their knowledge of sim- 
ples, and use of the vapour bath, they sometimes 
effected great cures, but generally the patient died 
in their hands. 

The new England tribes believed in a Great 
Spirit which was their God. To him they prayed 
and offered sacrifices, and most of their feasts and 
other ceremonies were especially dedicated to him. 
They were firm believers in spiritual intercourse by 
means of dreams, charms, and omens. A few pre- 
tended to the gift of prophecy, and each warrior 
appears at times to have undergone fasts and other 
spiritual exercises. Hence, the influence of the con- 
jurer was frequently greater than that of the sachem ; 
so that the tribe to which he belonged was governed 
by a kind of religious authority. 

Each tribe possessed its own hunting-ground, and 
this was free for the use of each of its members. A 
warrior was entitled to all the game he could kill, and 
to every other species of property he had acquired 
either in war or by tilling the soil. In general, each 
one depended upon his own skill for the maintenance 
of himself and family ; and in case of disappointment, 
he could rely with confidence upon a supply from the 
generosity of others. Hence, buying and selling were 
unknown, nor did barter exist except to a limited 
extent. Besides the produce of the chase, the In- 
dians depended chiefly upon the cultivation of maize 

for their subsistence. Of this valuable grain large 

2 



18 



INTRODUCTION. 



quantities were raised, and the care with which the 
New England tribes stored it away for winter, would 
seem to entitle them to more credit for forethought 
than has usually been given them. 

The situation of women among the Indians of New 
England, will not, we think, justify the assertion of 
numerous writers, that they were in a state of slavery. 
The affection of Philip for his wife is well known, 
and the manner in which his stern warriors bore their 
women with them from place to place, at the risk of 
their own lives, ought to shame many a white soldier 
who has been placed in similar circumstances. That 
the lot of the Indian squaw was one of incessant toil, 
arose from the very nature of savage life. On them 
devolved the cultivation of the soil, the preparation 
of food, clothing, and other articles, and the carrying of 
all luggage during a journey. In all this there is 
little chivalry, yet before judging the Indian chief by 
the refined notions of the present day, it would be 
well to examine the condition of the labouring wo- 
men in Europe towards the end of the seventeenth 
century. It may also be observed that the hardships 
of the Indian women generally increase in direct 
ratio with the frequency of intercourse between 
Indians and white men. 

The tribes whose names we have enumerated, in 
common with those of all North America, esteemed 
war as their most honourable occupation ; hence 
every man was a warrior, and every warrior aspired 
to the distinction of a chief or brave. Glory was 
the principal object sought, yet it rarely gave occa- 



INTRODUCTION. 



19 



sion to a rupture between tribes when there was no 
direct provocation on either side. Trespass upon a 
hunting-ground, insult to a member of the tribe, the 
assumption by the nation of a private quarrel or 
hereditary feud between one of its warriors and one 
of another tribe, were among the frequent causes of 
war. The declaration was made by the whole tribe 
in council and confirmed by a solemn dance. If suc- 
cessful the warriors returned to their village, bearing 
with them their scalps and booty. The women and 
children of the vanquished were sometimes killed, 
but generally taken captive and incorporated with 
the conquerors. Often the warriors who had been 
taken were subjected to cruel tortures. They relied 
upon stratagem and surprise rather than direct va- 
lour, and it was this which rendered Philip so for- 
midable to the colonists. The perseverance of the 
Indian while pursuing an enemy or flying from onj, 
his patient endurance of hunger and other privations, 
are too well known to require more than a passing 
notice. In the sachem of Mount Hope and his cap- 
tains these qualities were most conspicuous. 

The general character of the aborigines of New 
England was like that of their brethren in the west. 
For more than a century after the landing of the 
pilgrims, they were denounced as " pagans," " bar- # 
barians," " children of Satan," " Canaanites," " Phi- 
listines," "bloody villians," &c. ; while some of the 
more learned colonists entertained serious doubts of 
their having souls. This latter insinuation was 
however refuted by Cotton Mather, who speaks from 



20 



INTRODUCTION. 



lime to time about numbers of them plunging head 
foremost into hell. 

How the Indians could be any other than pagans 
and barbarians, it would perhaps be difficult to de- 
termine ; that they were either Canaanites or Philis- 
tines must be decided by the antiquary ; and belief 
as to the propriety of the other epithets will be modi- 
fied according to the faith or the credulity of the reader. 
Such expressions used in the seventeenth century by 
intelligent men of their fellow men, can be excused 
only on the consideration of the circumstances of 
alarm and misery under which their authors wrote ; 
but that historians of our own age, amid the calm- 
ness of their closets, with time to write, and facts to 
write from, should echo sentiments in all respects 
similar is indeed strange. By them the Indians are 
described as superlatively cruel, treacherous, addicted 
to drunkenness, revengeful, implacable to the whites, 
&,c. It is an important fact, generally overlooked, 
that the cruelty of the Indians is rarely exercised 
except in time of war. Then, indeed, he murders and 
scalps his victim, burns villages, carries off captives, 
and tortures the warrior who fought with him in 
battle. Such was Philip's mode of operating, except 
that he did not torture his prisoners. But before de- 
nouncing the Indian let us examine the history of 
wars among civilized nations. We refer not to the 
iron sway of the Romans, nor to Europe two centu- 
ries ago, but to her civilized nations at the present 
time. Perhaps, amid the horrors of the late struggles 
in Italy, Sicily, and Hungary, we may learn that 



INTRODUCTION. 



21 



cruelty in the human breast is not confined to the 
dusky Indian or the savage state of society. Nor 
does torturing a warrior for slaying a relative or clans- 
man, seem more cruel than execution by the rack, by 
the slow fire of an auto-da-fe, by the examinations of 
the Inquisition, or by a living death amid mines 
which the day-beams never cheer. One is the un- 
disguised indulgence of revenge, the other is merely 
the mortifying of the flesh for the good of the soul. 
One is execrable because inflicted by a naked savage 
on the shores of the Connecticut ; the other is faintly 
condemned, if at all, because such operations were 
once in accordance with the spirit of the age. Perhaps, 
in examining the history of King Philip's war, we 
shall find that he extended mercy to his antagonists 
more frequently than he received it. 

The treachery of the Indians has likewise been 
exaggerated. It was never exercised among mem- 
bers of the same tribe, or friendly tribes, being con- 
fined almost entirely to the stratagems used in war. 
The treatment of Roger Williams, and the conduct 
of Massasoit, are glorious examples of Indian fidelity ; 
and had the example of that excellent minister been 
followed by his countrymen, the infant colonies of 
Massachusetts would probably have maintained a 
lasting peace with the aborigines. The practice of 
sending men among the settlers to ascertain their 
force, previous to making a general onslaught, can 
scarcely be stigmatized as treachery, so long as en- 
lightened nations employ spies for precisely the same 
purpose. It is true they sometimes violated treaties. 



22 



INTRODUCTION. 



Philip violated Massasoit's treaty often ; his warriors 
had been insultingly deprived of their arms. The 
Narragansetts violated the treaty into which they 
were one day unexpectedly forced by the whole force 
of Massachusetts entering their country sword in hand. 
To produce parallel instances in the narratives of 
Europeans, besides being an endless task, would but 
poorly justify the Indian for breach of faith; yet it 
may be remarked, that an Indian never considers a 
promise or a treaty binding unless entirely voluntary 
on his part. When, therefore, it is considered how 
treaties with the red men were usually effected, our 
indignation will decrease on observing them so fre- 
quently violated. Revenge was one of the worst 
qualities of the New England savage. To gratify it, 
he considered no labour great, no privation hard. He 
followed his victim day and night, through the snows 
of winter and the heat of summer. He murdered 
him with savage delight ; shook his scalp in defiance 
at the relatives, and bounded away to his tribe. 
Private quarrels were sometimes espoused by the re- 
spective tribes, when the inevitable consequence was 
a bloody war. It was in revenge for the injuries of 
his tribe that Philip waged his long war, and the 
alacrity with which many of the neighbouring tribes 
repaired to his camp, shows their eagerness to drive 
from the soil those whom they regarded as invaders. 

The hatred entertained by the Indians of the 
white people was but the natural consequence of dis- 
trust and jealousy which had sprung up on both 
sides. That they were likewise addicted to drunk- 



INTRODUCTION. 



23 



enness cannot be denied ; yet in the language of one 
of their chiefs, the Indians though they drink rum do 
not make it. 

Philip's tribe appears to have acknowledged the 
principle of hereditary succession to an extent greater 
than any of the neighbouring tribes. Its territories as 
has already been remarked, stretched from Massa- 
chusetts Bay to Narragansett, and over this the 
sachem maintained a sway at once paternal and 
kingly. Of the remote ancestors of King Philip 
nothing is known. His father was Massasoit, the 
friend of the pilgrims, the wild governor of his own 
people. Some account of this celebrated man is ne- 
cessary to a proper understanding of the war after- 
wards waged by his son. About three months after 
the landing of the pilgrims at Plymouth, an Indian 
came into the town, exclaiming in broken English, 
" Welcome Englishmen!" These were the first in- 
telligible sounds which the settlers had heard, and 
their surprise at the boldness of this unknown savage 
was increased by hearing him speak in their own 
language. This man was Samoset, sagamore or 
chief of a neighbouring tribe. By conversing with 
fishermen who from time to time touched on the 
coast, he had learned enough of the English language 
to make himself understood, and having usually been 
well treated he had formed a favourable opinion of 
the white people. He informed them that a plague 
had desolated the adjoining region about five years 
before, but that the great chief, Massasoit, was at that 
time near with a portion of his tribe. Being re- 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

warded for his information he departed well pleased. 
He afterwards returned bringing with him an Indian 
named Squanto. This individual, with about twenty 
others, had been kidnapped by Captain Hunt, in 1614, 
and carried to Malaga, where he was sold into slavery. 
Some of the monks there either rescued or redeemed 
him. He afterwards lived for a time in England, 
but returned to his own country soon after the great 
pestilence. Squanto, who could speak English with- 
out difficulty, informed the settlers that Massasoit 
was on the way to visit them. About an hour after, 
the sachem appeared on a neighbouring hill attended 
by his brother and sixty men. After some delay, a 
few presents were sent to him, and Edward Winslow 
was despatched to hold a conference. In a speech of 
some length, that individual informed the sachem that 
King James saluted him as brother with the words of 
truth and love ; that he accepted him as his friend and 
ally, and that the governor desired to see him and to 
trade and treat with him upon equal terms. It would 
be too much to suppose that Massasoit understood 
this harangue even when translated by Squanto ; and 
this may explain the fact that he did not reply to it. 
But as soon as Mr. Winslow had concluded his 
speech, the sachem signified his willingness to open 
the proposed trade by purchasing that gentleman's 
sword and belt, upon which his eye had been steadily 
fastened. Finding that they were not for sale, he 
selected twenty of his men to accompany him into 
the town, and after giving orders that their arms 
should be left behind, he crossed a small stream 



INTRODUCTION. 



25 



which separated him from the colonists. He was 
met by Captain Standish with seven men, who es- 
corted him to the village. After being conducted to 
one of the houses, he was seated on a pile of cushions 
in the middle. Soon after the governor arrived, when 
a loud flourish of trumpets surprised and delighted 
the Indians, for whose especial benefit it had been 
designed. The sachem and the governor embraced 
and kissed each other, after which all present sat 
down to a feast. 

On this occasion was concluded the treaty between 
the Wampanoags and the colonists, which the Indians 
maintained for fifty years. Its principal terms were 
in substance ; that each party should refrain from 
injuring the other ; that individuals offending either 
party should be delivered for punishment to that 
party ; that one should help the other in case of war ; 
that the tribes confederate with Massasoit should be 
apprised of the treaty, and become parties to it ; that 
when visiting the colony Massasoit' s men should leave 
their arms behind; and "that so doing their sove- 
reign lord, King James, would esteem him as his 
friend and ally." 

At this interview Massasoit ceded to the colonists 
the part of his territory afterwards called Plymouth, 
together with a considerable extent of land around it. 
He received in acknowledgment of it a pair of knives 
and a copper chain for himself, and a knife, a jewel, 
some biscuit, and some butter for his brother, Quade- 
quinah. Such was the first treaty made by the pil- 
grims with the Indians. Unlike most others of a 



26 



INTRODUCTION. 



similar nature, it was voluntary on the part of Massa- 
soit. The terms were plainly expressed, and though 
that portion of them which related to King James 
might have not been intelligible to the sachem, yet 
was he not only satisfied, but highly pleased. The 
best evidence of this is the fact already noticed, that 
the treaty was preserved inviolate for half a century. 

A description of Massasoit's appearance on this 
occasion will not fail to interest the reader. He was, 
says an old writer, " a very lusty man in his best 
years, an able body, grave of countenance, and spare 
of speech ; in his attire, little or nothing differing 
from the rest of his followers, only in a great chain of 
white bone beads about his neck, and at it, behind 
his neck, hung a little bag of tobacco, which he 
drank (smoked), and gave us to drink. His face 
was painted with a sad, red-like murrey, and oiled, 
both head and face, that he looked greasily." All his 
followers likewise were in their faces, in part or in 
whole, painted, some black, some red, some yellow, 
and some white ; some with crosses and other antic 
works ; some had skins on them, and some were naked ; 
all strong, tall men in appearance. The king had in 
his bosom, hanging in a string, a great long knife. 
He marvelled much at our trumpet, and some of his 
men would sound it as well as they could. 

Massasoit passed the night in the woods about half 
a mile distant, taking Mr. Winslow with him as in- 
terpreter. The English, still suspicious, slept on 
their arms, and appointed sentinels ; but on the fol- 
lowing morning, two of their number, Standish and 



INTRODUCTION. 



27 



Alder ton, on an invitation from the sachem, went 
venturously to him, and were cordially welcomed to 
an entertainment of ground-nuts. The governor in 
return sent him a kettle full of dried peas. In the 
afternoon, much to the relief of the colonists, who 
still suspected their guests, the king departed. 

In the following summer several of the colonists, 
among whom were Winslow and Hopkins, visited 
Mount Hope. Their object was to keep up the 
friendly correspondence which had already been es- 
tablished, but especially to hint to him in a delicate 
manner, that the numbers of his people who had im- 
proved the treaty by living upon the corn of the settlers, 
had become an intolerable burden. They were like- 
wise authorized to pay Massasoit for some corn they 
had found, or the owners of it, provided they could be 
found — an act of justice worthy of all commendation. 
After various adventures the party reached Pokenoket. 
Massasoit was not at home, but on hearing of the un- 
expected arrival, he hastened to meet his guests 
They saluted him with a discharge of muskets, an 
honour no less elating to the king than terrific to the 
women and children. The king welcomed them 
cordially, and leading them into his house, seated 
them beside himself. They had brought him as a 
present from the governor a trooper's red coat, with 
some lace upon it, and a copper chain. The coat was 
quickly on him, much to the sachem's delight, who 
keenly enjoyed the astonishment of his staring Wam- 
panoags. He acceded to all their requests, making a 
speech to his people, in which he ordered them to 



28 



INTRODUCTION. 



take their skins (of animals killed in the chase) to 
the English. Unfortunately for the visiters, their 
royal friend was in a state of destitution, so that his 
guests were obliged to retire to rest supperless. Nor 
was this their sole inconvenience. The king had 
but one bed, which was only planks laid a foot from 
the ground, and a thin mat upon them. He laid us 
on the bed, says one of the party, with himself and 
his wife, they at the one end and we at the other. 
Two more of his men, for want of room, pressed by 
and upon us, so that we were worse weary of our 
lodging than of our journey. 

Next day many of the neighbouring sachems 
came to see the English, and performed various 
games for their entertainment. The party, however, 
continued without food until the following day at 
one o'clock, when Massasoit brought two large fishes 
and boiled them. The joy of the colonists at this 
sight was diminished by the fact, that there were at 
least forty looking for a share in them. After de- 
spatching their share, they prepared to depart, resist- 
ing all the importunities of Massasoit to the contrary. 
But besides wishing to keep the Sabbath at home, 
the colonists feared they would be light-headed for 
want of sleep, for what with bad lodging, the savages' 
barbarous singing (for they used to sing themselves 
asleep), lice and fleas within doors, and mosquitoes 
without, we could hardly sleep all the time of our 
being there. Their departure left Massasoit both 
grieved and ashamed that he could entertain them no 
better. 



INTRODUCTION. 



29 



In 1623, Massasoit sent to his friends at Plymouth, 
informing them that he was dangerously ill. Mr. 
Winslow and a John Hampden from London, were 
instantly sent with some cordials for his relief. They 
found the house full of men " making such a hellish 
noise, as it distempered us that were well, and, there- 
fore, unlike to ease him that was sick." Through 
the kind exertions of Mr. Winslow he recovered. 
Such was his confidence in the colonists after this 
event, that he desired Winslow to go among some of 
his people who were sick, and administer to them as 
he had to himself. Such are a few of the principal 
events which established a friendly intercourse be- 
tween this great chief and the colonists, and rendered 
him ever after their firm friend. The remaining 
incidents of his life so far as related to the colony 
need not be narrated in detail. In 1632, a rupture 
between him and Canonicus was healed through the 
intercession of the settlers. On this occasion he 
changed his name to Ousamsquin. In 1635 he 
united with the Narragansett chiefs in giving Roger 
Williams that portion of land on which Providence 
now stands. In 1639 he is believed to have asso- 
ciated his eldest son, Wamsutta (afterwards Alexan- 
der), in the government with him. When Squanto 
circulated slanderous reports concerning his king, the 
injured sachem appeared in person at Plymouth to 
demand the culprit's surrender. The colonists ac- 
knowledged the justice of the claim according to the 
terms of the old treaty ; but they managed to evade 
the chiefs demand. At this he was deeply incensed, 



30 



INTRODUCTION. 



and for a while, the amicable relations hitherto exist- 
ing, appeared on the point of being broken. From 
time to time he sold portions of his land to the colo- 
nists, and made treaties in their favour with adjoining 
tribes. To such an extent was this transfer of land 
carried on, that in 1657, he possessed but a few spots 
of his originally vast dominions, of which the prin- 
cipal was Mount Hope. It must be confessed that 
justice was not always extended towards the aged 
chief, yet he steadily adhered to the terms of the treaty 
of 1621. The precise date, of his death is unknown, 
but there is little reason to doubt that it occurred in 
1662. 

Massasoit left two sons, Mooanam, Wamsutta, or 
Alexander, and Pometacom, or Philip. The first 
succeeded his father. His wife was the celebrated 
Weetamoo, queen of Pocasset, renowned for her pa- 
triotic adherence to Philip, and her melancholy end. 
So scanty are the notices of this sachem, that it is im- 
possible to form from them either a proper apprecia- 
tion of his character, or a knowledge of his designs. 
Soon after his father's death, he ceded a tract of land 
belonging to his wife to the colony, a measure which 
excited the indignation of Weetamoo. Previous to 
this he had been forced into a war with Uncas, in 
which he displayed both skill and bravery. In 1662, 
immediately after he had become chief sachem, sus- 
picions were entertained of his fidelity to the colony. 
Were the grounds of these suspicions known, they 
would throw great light upon the life of Alexander, 
as well as upon the causes of Philip's war ; but un- 



INTRODUCTION. 



31 



fortunately, the old writers have given us nothing 
more than "-rumours," " alarming reports;" "beliefs," 
and " asseverations," mostly circulated by idle Indians, 
who frequently, through a spirit of gossip or care- 
lessness, roamed first among the whites, and after- 
wards among their own countrymen, tattling to each 
party of the other. This class of informers was so 
well known to the Indians as to receive little attention ; 
but the good people of Plymouth received all their 
tattling as fact. Government became alarmed, and 
their fears were confirmed, when " some of Boston, 
having been occasionally at Narragansett, wrote to 
Mr. Pierce, who was then governor of Plymouth, 
that Alexander was contriving mischief against the 
English, and that he had solicited the Narragansetts 
to engage with him in his designed rebellion." In 
consequence of this information, the chief was called 
to appear at the next court in Plymouth, in order to 
his own vindication. The chief received this intima- 
tion in a friendly manner, but declared that the 
Narragansetts were his enemies, and had villified 
him. On the day appointed, he failed to appear, and 
Major Winslow was sent by the governor and magis- 
trates to 11 fetch him." The Major started with ten 
men. On the journey when about half way between 
Plymouth and Bridge water, they observed some In- 
dians in a hut which was used by the natives as a place 
of rendezvous for their fishing parties. When near, the 
Major observed that it was Alexander and a number 
of his warriors, all of whom were armed. Their 
guns were standing outside of the house. These the 



INTRODUCTION. 



colonists immediately seized, after which Winslow 
desired Alexander to walk out with him that he 
might inform him " what commission the Major had 
received concerning him." On hearing of the pro- 
ceedings at Plymouth, " the proud sachem (says 
Increase Mather) fell into a raging passion, saying the 
governor had no reason to credit rumours, or to send 
for him in such a way, nor would he go to Plymouth 
but when he saw cause." The Major replied, that 
" by the help of God" he would take him there or 
die on the spot, and thrusting his pistol against the 
sachem's breast demanded a positive answer. The 
interpreter interfered, and at length Alexander was 
persuaded to accompany the party of "Winslow. He 
asked that his men might be around him, so that his 
appearance would be suitable to his rank. This was 
granted, and Alexander arrived at Duxbury as the 
guest of Major Winslow. But the insult was too 
much for his feelings. Vexing and fretting in his 
spirit, he was seized suddenly with a fever. He and 
his warriors implored Dr. Fuller to furnish him with 
some medicine, but this he refused to do until their 
importunities could no longer be resisted. His dis- 
order increasing, he asked the privilege of returning 
to his tribe, promising to return when the court met. 
This was granted, but on reaching his home he 
died. 

This unexpected event caused the greatest excite- 
ment. Some of the colonists accused the Plymouth 
government of having been unnecessarily severe to- 
wards the deceased chief. A few pitied his fate, and 



INTRODUCTION. 



33 



the fact that Mather applies to him no worse epithets 
than " proud and haughty," would lead us to infer 
that many at least lamented his untimely end. Among 
the hostile Indians an opinion was propagated that 
he had been poisoned. Weetamoo, his wife, felt con- 
fident of its truth, and rumours concerning the de- 
signs of the white people were whispered among the 
fierce tribes of the interior with as much industry as 
similar tales were reported in the colonies. 

Such was the relative condition of the two races, 
who, at the time of Philip's accession, were whetting 
their swords for no ordinary fray. That the fate of 
his brother rankled in the young king's mind, and 
was one of the train of causes which resulted in war, 
there can be, we think, little doubt. We have re- 
served the consideration of the more apparent ones 
for a subsequent chapter. 

The three colonies of Plymouth, Massachusetts, 
and Connecticut, were engaged in this war as a com- 
mon cause. The first comprised that part of the 
country which had been depopulated by the great 
pestilence, comprising the towns of Plymouth, Dux- 
bury, Scituate, and Marshfield, on the coast, and in 
the interior, Taunton, Rehoboth, and Bridgewater. 
The plague had spared the ancient town of Swanzy, 
which, in 1620, was governed by the sachem exorbi- 
tant. It had however been purchased and colonized 
by the settlers. On Cape Cod, the lands of Barn- 
stable, Sandwich, and Yarmouth, had been settled/ 
together with a few small towns. 

By inspecting a map of the Plymouth colony, it 

3 



34 



INTRODUCTION. 



will be seen that most of these towns were widely 
separated, often by forests, rivers, and sheets of water, 
thus affording opportunities for the Indians to destroy 
them in detail. With Massachusetts the case was 
different. Boston, Cambridge, Dorchester, Charles- 
town, Medford, Roxbury, and Watertown, were in 
close proximity, some of them being connected by 
small bridges or natural tongues of land. Among 
the other towns of this colony were Hingham, Wey- 
mouth, Lynn, Maiden, and Hull. On Salem penin- 
sula, Marblehead had been incorporated in 1649, 
Manchester and Gloucester somewhat earlier. Be- 
sides these principal towns, settlements including 
many smaller ones had been extended far into the 
wilderness. The men of Massachusetts had like- 
wise crossed the mountains, and founded upon the 
remote shores of the Connecticut the towns, Hadley, 
Springfield, and Northfield on the east bank; and on 
the west, Northampton, Deerfield, Hatfield, and 
Westfield. The large county of Berkshire was then 
a wilderness, destitute even of red inhabitants. West- 
field a few miles from the Connecticut, was the only 
interior settlement between that river and the Hudson. 
These distant towns were small and feeble, and it was 
against them that Philip directed some of his most 
successful attacks. 

The Connecticut colony was mostly composed of 
settlements on Long Island Sound and the Connecti- 
cut river. New Haven was populous and flourish- 
ing; Hartford, Windsor, Waterbury, Haddam, Say- 
brook, Lyme, and others were situated on both sides 



INTRODUCTION. 



35 



of the river as far as Massachusetts. Norwich Ston- 
ington, and New London, had been taken from the 
Pequots. Connecticut had several advantages not 
enjoyed by her sister colonies. Within her territory 
was the powerful tribe of the Mohegans, among 
whom the remnant of the Pequots was incorporated. 
Uncas was the sachem. During the war they re- 
mained steady friends to the settlers. The colony 
was likewise in league with the Mohawks, so that it 
could direct its whole strength against the enemy, 
without fear of an attack on its exposed western 
border. The country of the Narragansetts was also 
claimed by Connecticut; a settlement had been 
made at Wickford, and in several places plantations 
were owned by families or individuals. These being 
isolated amid the wilderness, were sure of destruction 
if the Narragansetts joined King Philip. 

We have refrained from naming Rhode Island as 
a party in the conflict, not because its people did not 
suffer their full share of calamity, but because it was 
excluded from the confederacy of its more powerful 
neighbours. Injustice and persecution had distin- 
guished all the dealings of Massachusetts and Ply- 
mouth with this infant settlement. An outcast, 
banished by the pilgrims on account of his fearless 
defence of the rights of man, had wandered to an 
unknown wilderness, where his amiable qualities 
touched the hearts of savages and made them his 
friends ; and had founded a town on a spot ceded to him 
by these children of nature. In token of his humble 
reliance upon God he named it Providence. All who 



36 



INTRODUCTION. 



were persecuted for conscience sake, all who were 
flying from the avenging sword of blind bigotry, all 
who denied that a sugar-loaf hat and an elongated vis- 
age, were no more necessary to eternal salvation than a 
broad brimmed beaver and an aspect of cheerfulness, 
hurried to the new city of refuge, and were received 
with Christian kindness. The rising colony was 
watched with jealous vigilance by its political parents ; 
but the savages became its protectors, and nursed it 
with affectionate pride. The government of the 
colony made strenuous efforts to avoid engaging in 
the war, but without success. The towns of Provi- 
dence, Warwick, and Patuxet, being situated on a 
territory which was constantly traversed by both 
belligerents, were exposed to repeated devastations. 
The towns of Newport and Portsmouth, being se- 
parated from the main land by a considerable extent 
of water, remained undisturbed, and the island upon 
which they stood was the resort of fugitives from all 
the surrounding regions. Such was the situation 
and condition of the colonies at the opening of King 
Philip's war. The population cannot be ascertained 
with precision, but from the fact that Connecticut 
contained about twenty-one hundred men between 
the ages of sixteen and sixty, we may infer that the 
population of the confederacy was far greater than 
that of the Indians. On two occasions the commis- 
sioners voted one thousand men to carry on the war, 
besides the forces then in active service. The names 
and condition of the principal New England tribes 
have already been given. By repeated grants of land, 



INTRODUCTION. 



37 



the territories of several had been so diminished, that 
the sachems could scarcely be said to have retained 
a home. But the long peace had prevented the 
jealousies which such a circumstance was calculated 
to occasion ; so that in the generation succeeding that 
of the pilgrims, we find the Indians associating freely 
with the whites, and forming no inconsiderable por- 
tion of their interior settlements. Philip with his 
Wampanoags was confined to the peninsula of Mount 
Hope. The Saconet tribe, subject to Philip, but 
governed by his kinswoman, Awashonks, dwelt on 
the tongue of land to which their name has been 
given. Of the population of Cape Cod, the far 
greater portion were Indians, who were intermixed 
with the white people in every proportion. Through- 
out most of the other towns of the colonies, the Indians 
lived in the best terms with the settlers, carrying on 
a regular trade with them, assisting in the labours of 
the field and chase, and learning those arts which 
were most serviceable to them. They knew the 
habits (says Baylies), the temper, the outgoings, the 
incomings, the power of defence, and even the domi- 
ciliary usages of every family in the colony. They 
were minutely acquainted with every brook, river, 
creek, bay, harbour, lake, and pond, and with every 
local peculiarity of the country. They had their 
friends and their enemies amongst the English; for 
some they professed a fond attachment, others they 
disliked and avoided. In short, they seemed as much 
identified with the English as Greeks with Turks. 
Suspicions were lulled to sleep, and no more appre- 



38 



INTRODUCTION. 



hensions were entertained of Indian hostility than of 
a civil war. Philip was no exception to these re- 
marks. Both before and after the death of his father 
he frequently visited Ply month, and associated with 
the people on the most friendly terms. 

During many years previous to 1675, a silent but 
wonderful change had been taking place among the 
Indians, in consequence of the labours of John Eliot, 
the great apostle to the red men. He began his 
mission in 1646, and continued to preach and esta- 
blish native churches until he attained the age of 
ninety. His ideas respecting the mission were pecu- 
liar, and display the grasp of a comprehensive mind. 
Instead of establishing isolated stations, he directed 
all his efforts to the formation of a Christian republic, 
modeled after that of the Israelites as received from 
Moses. In pursuance of the plan, he united the 
settlement of praying Indians under one government, 
as far as was practicable, reserving to himself a 
general supervision of the whole. Converts were 
taught to address their countrymen, or relate inci- 
dents connected with their religious experience. 
Eliot was gifted with remarkable powers of endur- 
ing the extremes of heat and cold. Like John Wes- 
ley, he could ride all day through the rain, preach at 
night in wet clothes, and sleep upon the ground or 
on a plank — all without affecting his health. The 
Indians revered him as a father, and delighted to 
listen to his preaching ; yet his disposition was stern, 
and he seemed incapable of fear. His indefatigable 
exertions were crowned with wonderful success. At 




ELIOT PREACHING TO THE INT)IANS. 



(39) 



INTRODUCTION. 



41 



Natick, eighteen miles from Boston, was established 
his first mission. Six thousand acres of land 
had been granted for that purpose. Eliot divided 
the Indians into hundreds, fifties, and tens, with a 
ruler over each division ; the town was laid out into 
regular streets ; a fort erected, and a house built, of 
which the lower part served for a church. At Pake- 
unit, (Stoughton), a second church was built, and 
soon after places of worship were established in a 
large number of the native towns of Massachusetts, 
and among the Nipmucks. According to the writer 
last quoted, the English had established there in 
some degree, their form of government both ecclesi- 
astical and civil. These Indians had pastors, ruling 
elders, and deacons, and generally schoolmasters of 
their own race, and also rulers and constables. The 
rulers generally decided their disputes, and the con- 
stables were their executive officers. They were 
seated on some of the best lands in the colony, with 
every advantage both for hunting and fishing. They 
were, however, sensible of their inferiority to their 
white neighbours, a ad adhered to them more from 
fear than affection. 

The advantages of these labours in maintaining 
the peace of the colony must be apparent to every 
mind. Similar exertions for the conversion of the 
Indians, though to a less extent, were made by 
Thomas May hew and Richard Bourne. In 1674, 
Eliot had established more than twelve towns, in 
which industry, order, and excellent instruction were 
established. The rumour of war interrupted his 

J>2 



42 



INTRODUCTION. 



.abours. Eliot strove to prevent it, but in vain ; yet 
his earnest entreaties, first to the colonists, and then 
to Philip, are worthy of an apostle of Christianity. 
" We (he wrote on one occasion to the government), 
the poor church of Natick, hearing that the honoured 
rulers of Plymouth are pressing and arming soldiers 
to go to war with the Indians, do mourn greatly on 
account of it, and desire that they may not be de- 
stroyed, because we have not heard that they have 
done any thing worthy of death. It is your duty to 
offer, accept, and desire peace, and we pray you for 
God's sake, and for your soul's sake obey this word ; 
we long to hear of a happy peace that may open a v 
clear passage for the gospel among the people." This 
extract, short as it is, displays not only the affection 
of Eliot for his people, but that he had far more en- 
lightened views concerning the events of the ensuing 
quarrel, and the duty of the government, than was 
possessed by the other ministers of that period. 

Eliot's advice was of course rejected. Still anxious 
to prevent a struggle, whose consequences he fore- 
saw better than the colonists did, the missionary re- 
solved on the bold step of visiting King Philip at 
Mount Hope. Philip had ever been a firm opposer 
of Christianity; on several occasions he had openly 
ridiculed it ; his warriors had learned to reject it 
from the example of their chief; he had heard of the 
proceedings against him at Plymouth, and that he 
was spoken of as a rebel and an outlaw. Was it 
probable that he would refrain from injuring the 
helpless missionary should he appear at his chief seat ? 



INTRODUCTION. 



43 



Undismayed by these facts, Eliot undertook his 
mission of peace. In the interview of these two men, 
one the aged servant of Christ, the other the youth- 
ful sachem of a mighty people ; one the pioneer of 
civilization, the other the stern savage — there must 
have been something wild, picturesque, and im- 
pressive. Philip, begirt with his principal warriors, 
was distinguished among them all, by his lofty atti- 
tude, and the gloomy reserve of his features. Over 
the common dress of a chief, he wore a silver laced 
coat, the dress of royalty. His arms were also richer 
than those of his warriors. In the prime of manhood, 
he spake and moved as if events of startling magni- 
tude continually occupied his mind. The missionary 
was an old man, his hair whitened with the snows of 
seventy winters. His dress was plain, and confined 
around his loins by a leather girdle. But his form 
was still erect and his eye piercing, and he stood 
before those exasperated men, calm as among his 
converts at Natick. In delivering his message, he 
spoke of the desolations and retaliations which would 
attend upon the war ; that fire and the sword would 
devour without discrimination, men, women, and 
children, and that the pleasant places which he had 
established, like oases in the wilderness, would all be 
destroyed. Philip treated him with kindness, and 
heard him with attention, but it was not possible for 
a mission of this nature to prevent the war. Eliot 
with two or three of his people who had accompanied 
him, retired; and a proof of his enlightened dispo- 
sition may be derived from his earnest exhortations 



44 



INTRODUCTION. 



to the people of his various congregations, "not to 
be moved by the example or seductions of either 
party." 

Notwithstanding this excellent advice, many of the 
praying Indians took up arms at the commencement 
of the struggle. Some of their towns were likewise 
among the first attacked by Philip. Hence the 
order and harmony which had prevailed among 
them were interrupted. Watchfires blazed nightly 
on the hills around Natick and Pakeunit. At first 
the war whoop was heard but occasionally. After- 
wards it grew more frequent, and was accompanied 
by the discharges of musketry, or strange cries often 
repeated. Finally these alarms were succeeded by 
attacks on the villages, and the scattering of congre- 
gations. The sufferings endured by these poor con- 
verts will be shown from time to time in the course 
of the following history. 

During these occurrences, Eliot, was exposed to re- 
proaches and insults from both belligerent parties. 
He laboured assiduously to prevent his people from 
taking part in the war; but so strong against them 
were the suspicions of government, that it banished 
numbers of them to Rhode Island, where they en- 
dured many sufferings. Some of the colonists de- 
clared them worthy of death, but the majority were 
opposed to so cruel a proceeding. On the whole, 
the condition of Eliot's Indians, during the war, was 
perhaps equally miserable with that of many of the 
hostile tribes. Hated by Philip's men, suspected by 
the colonists, contemned by both ; those of them who 



INTRODUCTION. 



45 



did not join the colonial forces shared the burden of 
war, without any hope of becoming parties to the 
advantages of victory. 

Thus, in as small a space as possible, we have 
sketched the numbers, habits, and disposition, of the 
more important tribes engaged in the war of 1675. 
We have given a summary of all that is known con- 
cerning the ancestors of King Philip. We have 
exhibited the relative condition of the two races, and 
the manner in which the character and habits of the 
one were modified by those of the other. We have 
followed Eliot into the wilderness, and seen how his 
heroic efforts for the real good of the nation were 
crowned with much success. If the object of the 
reader is to investigate the true merits of Philip's 
war, he will not think the time too long which has 
been devoted to this introduction. To do justice to 
all is the true merit of history. In the present case 
let our judgment be biased, neither by compassion 
at the sad fate of the Indian, nor by that feeling of 
national pride with which the American regards the 
deeds of his forefathers. Both were at times right ; 
often both were wrong. To determine which to 
censure and which to praise, let us carefully consider 
every fact before we pronounce a decision. 



CAUSES OF KING PHILIP'S WAR. 



The little that is known of Alexander, the brother 
of Philip, and successor of Massasoit, the reader is 
already acquainted with. If many of the friendly 
Indians, and even some of the whites, were incensed 
at the treatment of that prince, it is reasonable to 
suppose that the brother of the deceased entertained 
similar feelings. As there is no positive evidence to 
show, that before Alexander's death, Philip was in 
any manner ill-disposed towards the settlers, we may 
regard that event as the earliest, and one of the 
principal events of the war. Had the colonists 
attempted to soothe the brother's feelings, the injury 
would doubtless have been forgotten ; but as this was 
not the case, it tended to destroy the good feelings 
hitherto existing, and doubtless gave the first occasion 
for the rumours that the young sachem was medi- 
tating revenge. 

(46) 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 47 

No sooner had Philip become sachem, than he 
became aware of the suspicions of his hostility en- 
tertained at Plymouth. The only cause *)f these 
early suspicions, consists in the fact, that the colony 
having adopted violent measures with Alexander, 
imagined that Philip would resent them. The con- 
duct of the sachem did not corroborate this opinion. 
He appeared without delay at the court (August, 
1662), and did earnestly desire (says an author who 
wrote before the war) the continuance of that amity 
and friendship that had formerly been between the 
governor of Plymouth and his deceased father and 
brother, He was accompanied by his interpreter and 
secretary, the notorious John Sassamon, of whom 
much will be said hereafter. The court acknowledged 
their willingness to renew the treaty, and he signed 
articles to that effect, which were prepared by them. 
The name of his uncle, who was present, was added, 
while Sassamon and four other Indians countersigned 
the paper as witnesses. When we remember what 
effect the breaking of a treaty so solemnly ratified 
would have had upon Philip's popularity among the 
adjoining tribes, it will be acknowledged that the 
idea of his being insincere is absurd. 

A second cause of war was the frequent demands 
of the settlers for the purchase of his lands. Philip 
was too wise not to discover that if these continued 
he would not have a home in all the territories which 
his father had governed. From a period long before 
the death of Massasoit, until 1671, no year passed 
in which large tracts were not obtained by the set- 



48 



king philip's war. 



tiers. At length he made a kind of informal agree- 
ment with the Plymouth authorities, to sell no more 
land for seven years. After this, they endeavoured 
to entice him before the court, hoping that they could 
succeed better in negotiating with him there than in 
his own country. Philip evaded their invitation, but 
afterwards he sold several portions of land. All this 
was calculated to cause discontent among his people, 
and to arouse the suspicions of the chief as to the 
ultimate designs of his neighbours. A third cause 
was the repeated quarrels between the colonists and 
the Narragansetts. It is admitted by all historians, 
that the latter nation were wronged by the white 
men. Philip knew this, and sympathy for his allies, 
combined with apprehensions for his own security, 
in making him watchful of the settlers. 

In 1668, Philip complained to the court of Ply- 
mouth, of some injuries done to him by one West. 
The cause came before the court, but there is no re- 
cord of the decision. In 1671 he demanded satisfac- 
tion for injuries done to his hunting-grounds. At 
the same time he was engaged in preparations which 
occasioned great excitement in the colony. His men 
were frequently seen together, sharpening their 
hatchets and repairing their guns. The Plymouth 
government, ever vigilant, despatched messengers to 
ask him what it meant, and to Massachusetts to 
acquaint that government with their fears and sus- 
picions. Philip exhibited shyness, and perhaps the 
remembrance of his brother's fate nine years before, 
justified him 'in being shy. Massachusetts, anxious 



king philip's war. 49 

to avoid a rupture, sent three commissioners to me- 
diate between the parties. They reached Taunton. 
April 13, 1671, where the governor of Plymouth, 
Mr. Prince, then was. Immediately after, a message 
was received from Philip, inviting the governor to a 
conference at Three Mile River, about four miles dis- 
tant. Some of the Plymouth people advised an im- 
mediate attack upon him ; but this was firmly resisted 
by the Massachusetts commissioners. After con- 
siderable negotiation Philip entered the town. The 
conference was held in the meeting-house, one side 
of which was occupied by the Indians, the other by 
the governor and commissioners. Josiah Winslow 
was present on this occasion. " On the one side, says 
Baylies, appeared the tawny and ferocious counte- 
nances of the Indian warriors, their long black hair 
hanging down their backs; their small and sunken 
eyes gleaming with serpent fires; their persons 
covered with belts of wampum and fantastic or- 
naments, exhibiting a combination of every gaudy 
colour. The sober and silent demeanour of the 
English, and the strange and wild deportment of 
the Indians, presented a contrast the more remark- 
able, inasmuch as they had lived together for fifty 
years." 

Philip repeated the complaints concerning his 
hunting-grounds, and alleged that his warlike pre- 
parations were designed as a defence against the 
Narragansetts. The commissioners replied that he 
was on good terms with that tribe, and charged him, 
not only with having large supplies of ammunition, 

4 



50 



KING PHILIP'S WAR. 



but with having planned attacks upon Taunton and 
other places. Philip now became frightened, an in- 
stance of the want of self possession, very rare in an 
Indian. He acknowledged the charges to be true, 
surrendered his weapons, and signed an agreement 
to maintain peace for the future. Part of its terms 
was, that he should likewise surrender the arms of 
his subjects. Whether Philip could compel his war- 
riors to surrender their arms to the English may be 
questioned. That he did not occasioned fresh charges 
against him. He was immediately summoned to ap- 
pear at Plymouth. This summons he neglected. 
Incensed at the refusal, the Plymouth government 
sent in all haste to inform Massachusetts, that should 
he remain obstinate a week beyond the day appointed, 
he should be brought by force, unless the govern- 
ment of Massachusetts should offer them satisfactory 
reasons for his not appearing. The letter also inti- 
mated, that the quarrel was a common cause, but 
should the sister colonies refuse assistance, then Ply- 
mouth would adopt measures of defence unaided. 
That the Plymouth rulers possessed a right to sum- 
mon an independent chieftain whenever they thought 
proper, and to declare war upon him for not obeying 
their bidding, seems to have been doubted by the 
Massachusetts authorities. Their doubts were con- 
firmed by an incident rather unexpected. On the same 
day that the Plymouth letter arrived at Boston, Philip 
with a few followers likewise made his appearance. 
He laid before that colony a full statement of his case, 
and in consequence, offers were made to Plymouth to 



king philip's war. 



51 



refer the whole matter to a joint commission composed 
of members from Massachusetts and Connecticut. 

It is to be lamented that this policy w T as not adopted. 
The very solicitude of Philip, his appearance at 
Boston, and the lengthened examinations to which 
he submitted, lead to the conclusion that he desired 
no rupture with his powerful neighbours. 

On receiving the refusal of Plymouth, the govern- 
ment of Massachusetts immediately declared that 
there was not sufficient cause to justify Plymouth in 
going to war. For this the other colony was not 
prepared, and relaxing its former tone, it consented 
to a meeting with Philip, at which commissioners 
from the three colonies should be present. Those of 

' Connecticut and Massachusetts appear to have had 
no authority except as advisers. Philip appeared, 
and again signified his friendship and desire to main- 
tain peace. Articles of submission, " to his Majesty 
the King of England and the government of New 
Plymouth," were signed by him, and he promised to 
pay in such things as he had, one hundred pounds. 
The accusations against Philip, on this occasion, were 
his neglecting to bring in his arms ; " that he had 
carried himself insolently and proudly in refusing to 
come down to our court when sent for;" that he had 
"harboured" divers Indians, not his own men but 
" vagabonds;" that he had gone to Massachusetts 
with several of his council " endeavouring to insinuate 
himself into the magistrates, and to misrepresent mat- 

. ters unto them." By these different methods, it seems 
that the sachem "had done us a great deal of wrong 



52 



king philip's war. 



and injury." Hence he was admonished "to humble 
himself unto the magistrates, and to amend his ways 
if he expected peace, and that, if he went on in his 
refractory way, he must expect to smart for it." 

For three years after this affair, nothing of im- 
portance transpired between Philip and the colonists. 
But the barrenness of fact, is amply compensated by 
the fertility of speculation, since, according to many 
writers, this was the period in which the crafty 
sachem laboured to unite all the New England 
Indians against the colonists. As this array of au- 
thority is based upon the accounts of Mather and 
Hubbard, we need but refer to those authors to in- 
vestigate the probability of the assertions. There, 
however, we are surprised to find that the only evi- 
dence to support the assertions concerning the al- 
leged plot, are those same rumours, omens, sights 
in the air, and revelations, which ten years before 
had excited suspicion against Philip. Hence the 
question remains undecided; but as from time to 
time it receives fair investigation, the probability of 
the supposed confederation appears to diminish. 

We approach the period when the sword was 
drawn. The incident which broke the power of 
ancient treaties, and plunged the colonists and the 
red men into mortal conflict, was the death of John 
Sassamon. 

Sassamon was a Massachusetts Indian, both of 
whose parents died converts to Christianity. He 
also adopted the new religion, and by frequent inter- 
course with the colonists, combined with the subse- 



king philip's war. 



53 



quent teachings of Eliot, he learned their language 
so as to be able to read and write. He had likewise 
assisted in translating the Bible into the Natick 
language. Shrewd and artful, he neglected no op- 
portunity to acquire information which might be 
serviceable to himself. It was these qualities of mind 
which caused his shuffling conduct, and led to his 
frequent transfers of allegiance from one party to the 
other. This the stern unwavering men of that pe- 
riod, mistook for instability of mind ; yet there is 
reason to believe they were often made dupes of his 
cunning, when they imagined themselves listening 
to the simplicity of innocence. His religion was of an 
ambiguous cast, rather speculative than practical. 
He quickly perceived the influence which the native 
teachers acquired over their associates, and had suffi- 
cient address to obtain a commission as schoolmaster 
among the Naticks. This was probably about the 
year 1660. From some cause, not understood, he 
suddenly abandoned his flock, renounced Christianity, 
and entered the service of Alexander. Philip, igno- 
rant himself, knew the value of knowledge, and 
when his brother died, he adopted Sassamon as his 
secretary and counsellor. In this capacity his name 
appears on many of the transactions between the 
sachem and Plymouth. He remained with Philip 
but a few years, having committed some offence for 
which he dreaded the punishment. Having effected 
his escape from Mount Hope, he was persuaded by 
the venerable Eliot to renew his profession of Christ- 
ianity ; " and he manifested (says Mather) such evi- 



54 



king Philip's war. 



dent signs of repentance, as that he was, after his 
return from pagan Philip, reconciled to the praying 
Indians and baptized, and received as a member into 
one of the Indian churches; yea, and employed as 
an instructer among them every Lord's day." Being 
thus received into full communion, he again repaired 
to Natick, where his congregation welcomed him 
with joy. His popularity increased, and in 1672 
he was sent to preach to the Namasket Indians of 
Middleborough. The chief, old Tuspaquin, was 
the sachem. He favoured the new religion, and as 
an inducement for Sassamon to remain, he formally 
granted him in writing, twenty-seven acres of land 
for a "home lot." Felix, the husband of Sassamon's 
daughter, received fifty-eight and a half acres. This 
was in 1673. Soon after, Sassamon began to watch 
Philip's operations more closely than he had done 
before. During his secretaryship, he had been 
admitted to all the secret deliberations of the sa- 
chem, en which occasions, it had been alleged, 
he discovered the hostile preparations of the In- 
dian chief. But when we consider the haste with 
which he disclosed mere rumours, gathered when 
in Middleborough, it seems hardly probable that 
during the several years after he tied from Philip, 
he never hinted about the far more important and 
authentic information he is said to have acquired 
at Mount Hope. The truth probably is, that 
being destitute of cordiality for either party, cow- 
ardly, and sensible that he had wronged his for- 
mer master, he endeavoured to effect the destruo- 



king Philip's war. 



55 



tion of Philip, that he might escape his anticipated 
vengeance. 

After a short residence at Middleborough, Sassa- 
mon repaired to Plymouth, and communicated his 
suspicions to the governor, at the same time begging 
him to keep the knowledge of it from the Indians. 
Should it reach the ears of Philip, he alleged that 
the chief would kill him. Nevertheless, (says Ma- 
ther), his information (because it had an Indian origi- 
nal, and one can hardly believe them when they do 
speak the truth) was not at first much regarded. A 
curious deposition of one reverend character to the 
veracity of another ! But Sassamon's story was 
favoured by reports from other Indians, and at length 
the chief with several of his people, were examined 
by the authorities. As no evidence could be produced 
against him, he was dismissed, as usual "under 
strong suspicions." 

Sassamon had again joined the Namaskets; but 
information of his interview with the Plymouth au- 
thorities reached King Philip. Such an offence, like 
the mission of a spy among Europeans, is deemed 
by Indians worthy of death. Sassamon was declared 
a traitor and an outlaw ; and probably any of the 
Wampanoags were authorized to avenge the honour 
of their chief. 

In the spring of 1675, Sassamon disappeared. 
His absence excited suspicion, search was made, and 
his hat and gun were found upon the ice in Assawo- 
ruset Pond, near Middleborough. The ice was im- 
mediately broken, and his body found. David, an 



56 



king philip's war. 



Indian and friend of Sassamon, perceiving some 
bruises on the head, suspected that he had been 
murdered. The body was, however, interred; but 
David, still doubtful, communicated his observations 
to some of the settlers at Taunton. They communi- 
cated them to the governor, who issued a warrant for 
the exhuming of the body. How long it had re- 
mained in the ground, has not, we believe, been re- 
corded. A critical examination elicited the verdict, 
that the deceased had come to his death by violence. 
According to Cotton Mather, his neck was broken. 

The next step was to ascertain who were the 
murderers. An Indian stated that while standing on 
a neighbouring hill, he saw an Indian named Tobias, 
kill Sassamon, and afterwards thrust the body under 
the ice. He was brought before the governor, to 
whom he repeated the story. This statement seems 
to have led to the arrest of Tobias (Poggapanossoo), 
one of Philip's counsellors, who was bound over for 
his appearance at court. At this time, the excite- 
ment in the colony was intense ; men of all ages and 
classes demanding the death of the accused. The 
court met in June, when three instead of one were 
arraigned for the murder. Their names were Tobias 
Wampapaquan, son of Tobias, and Mattashunannamo; 
and they appear to have been arrested solely on the 
evidence of the Indian who had accused Tobias. 
According to the bill of indictment, " they did with 
joint consent wilfully, and of set purpose, and of 
malice aforethought, and by force and arms, murder 
John Sassamon, one other Indian, by laying violent 



king pkilip's war. 



59 



hands on him and striking him, or twisting his necke 
until hee was dead ; and to hyde and conceale this 
theire said murder, att the tyme and place aforesaid, 
did cast his dead body through a hole in the iyce .. 
into the said pond." The jury were composed of . 
twelve Englishmen and five Indians. The accused 
pleaded not guilty. According to Mather, one of 
the first proofs against them was, that " when Tobias 
[the suspected murderer] came near the dead body, , 
it fell a bleeding on fresh as if it had been newly 
slain ; albeit it was buried a considerable time before 
that." The principal evidence against the other 
two was the testimony of the Indian, who alleged 
that he was on an adjacent hill when the murder 
was committed. After retiring, the jury speedily 
agreed upon a verdict of guilty, and the prisoners 
were sentenced to be hung. On the 8th of June, 
two of them were executed, but with Wampapaquin 
the rope broke. The experiment was about to be re- 
peated, when the affrighted wretch, making one more 
effort to save his life, confessed that his father and 
M&ttashunannamo had committed the murder, but 
that he had not assisted them. He was accordingly 
"reprieved untill a month be expired." Before the 
month expired he was shot. 

This affair was the signal for war. The two par- 
ties had suspected each other so long, that all ties of 
friendship had been dissolved. Add to this the 
steady extension of the English, and consequent 
limitation of the Indians; the disputes about land, 
the death of Alexander, the mortifying " examina- 



60 



king philip's war. 



tions" to which Philip was subjected, and the in- 
creasing excitement both amongst colonists and In- 
dians, occasioned by the rumours of war, and we 
may perceive that the opposing elements required 
but a single further act of aggression on either side 
to result in an explosion. Such an act was the death 
of Tobias and his companions. It could not be sup- 
posed that Philip would submit to the indignity of 
having his own counsellor executed for an act, which, 
had he been convicted of it, was in strict conformity 
with Indian notions of justice. 

The Plymouth people appear to have rejoiced at 
the prospect of war, imagining that there would be 
little difficulty in driving the " Canaanites" from the 
land. It was not till Philip had convinced them 
that he was not the weak savage they imagined him 
to be, that they began to perceive how serious was the 
contest. On the other hand, Philip was unprepared 
for war, and nothing but a conviction among the 
neighbouring tribes of the justice of his cause, the 
ardour of his friends, and their alarm at the proceed- 
ings of the colony, enabled him to commence it in 
the vigorous manner that he did. 




COMMENCEMENT OF THE WAR— PHILIP DRIVEN 
FROM MOUNT HOPE. 



The death of Tobias and his companions excited 
the utmost alarm, both among the praying Indians 
and the neighbouring tribes. Every eye was directed 
towards the sachem of Mount Hope as their natural 
protector, and crowds came daily to place themselves 
under his protection. To stop this, the Plymouth 
government established military posts in the towns 
adjacent to Philip's territory, with strict orders to 
watch his movements. They also sent to him a letter 
" filled with friendly professions, [says Baylies], dis- 
claiming all hostile feelings or injurious intentions, 
but complaining of his conduct, and advising him to 
dismiss the strange Indians, and to give no heed to 
sinister reports." The chief's answer was stern and 
threatening, for he had evidently resolved on having 
no more intercourse with the colony. Previous to 

F (61) 



62 



king philip's war. 



this, Philip had sent six warriors to Awashouks, his 
kinswoman, the qneen of Saconet, to secure her 
alliance. To this she seems to have inclined ; she 
assembled her people and appointed a dance, the 
Indian preliminary to a treaty. At this time, Mr. 
Benjamin Church, afterwards the most efficient offi- 
cer in the war, was living upon a small peninsula 
belonging to Awashonks's territory. He had gained 
the esteem of the Indians, and was much respected 
by the queen. Church was secretly invited to the 
dance. On arriving, he found it in full operation, 
several hundred Indians being engaged, who were 
led by Awashonks. When Church appeared, she 
retired to a seat, assembled her warriors, and an- 
nounced the message received from Philip, adding 
that his messengers had informed her that the Ply- 
mouth men were gathering a great army to invade 
his country. She asked Church if this was so. He 
replied that he had just been at Plymouth ; that no 
warlike preparations were in progress there, and that 
he did not believe the colonists entertained any 
thought of war. The queen then ordered the six 
Wampanoags to be admitted. The appearance of 
these ambassadors was most imposing. Their faces 
were painted, rather hideously than otherwise ; their 
heads shaven, except a long narrow tuft on the top, 
cut to represent a cock's comb. Powder horns and 
shot bags hung down their backs. Awashonks in- 
formed them of what Church had said. Dissatisfied 
with this, they began to remonstrate angrily with 
the interpreters, but this the queen stopped. Church 



I 



king philip's war. 63 

was then informed, that Philip had threatened to 
attack the English privately, and then accuse her of 
it, to effect her destruction, unless she joined him. 
Church demanded of the Wampanoags what they 
designed doing with the bullets they had brought 
with them. They answered haughtily, to shoot 
pigeons. Church then advised her to " knock those 
six Mount Hopes on the head,' ' offering her at the 
same time the protection of the English. She re- 
jected the proposal, but requested Church to solicit 
for her the friendship of his government. The 
Wampanoags were exasperated at Church's conduct, 
and several of the Saconet warriors resented the idea 
of forming an alliance with Plymouth. One of 
these, Little Eyes, would have killed Church during 
the conference had he not been prevented. 

After leaving directions with the Indians concern- 
ing his goods, Church set out for Plymouth. On the 
way he met Peter Nunnuit, husband of Weetamoo, 
who was returning from a visit to Mount Hope. 
This man gave him additional information of Philip's 
hostile movements. A dance had been held for 
several weeks ; Mr. Brown bearer of the letter from 
Plymouth had met with a discouraging reception, 
the young men being prevented from killing him, 
only by the exertions of Philip, because " his father, 
[Massasoit], had charged him to show kindness to 
Mr. Brown ;" that Philip had been forced to promise 
his young men that on the next Lord's day, when 
the English were gone to meeting, they should rifle 
their houses, and from that time forward kill their 



64 



king Philip's war. 



cattle. Church had also an interview with Weeta- 
moo, whom he advised to place herself under the 
protection of Plymouth. 

On receiving Church's information, the governor 
of the colony despatched all the force then available 
to Mount Hope, and reinforcements were requested 
of Massachusetts. The movement of the troops 
against them so exasperated the Wampanoags, that 
Philip could no longer delay the commencement of 
the war. 

The Indians entertained a notion, probably taught 
them by some crafty white man, that the party which 
shed the first blood, w r ould eventually be defeated. 
Hence they carefully refrained from firing the first 
gun. But fully aware that war was impending, they 
sent their women and children to the Narragansetts, 
and disposed of every thing in their possession, ex- 
cept their arms, war clothing, and provisions. 

On the 20th of June, some Indians entered the 
town of Swansey, on Narragansett Bay. As it 
was the Sabbath, most of the towms people were at 
church, thus affording the intruders a fair opportunity 
to perpetrate mischief. They accordingly entered 
such houses as had been deserted, plundered them of 
articles still remaining, killed the cattle, and searched 
for arms. While this was going on, one of them 
was shot by a Swansey man. Thus, the first blood 
having been shed, the Indians threw off their reserve, 
and lost no time in planning further attacks. 

The defenceless inhabitants instantly applied to 
the government for assistance, while many abandoned 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 65 

their homes and hurried toward the more populated 
districts. Twenty horsemen were by order of the go- 
vernor raised in Bridgewater, and despatched imme- 
diately to Swansey. They reached it on the 21st, 
having passed a body of Indians without molesta- 
tion. The road was crowded with fugitives, " wring- 
ing their hands and bewailing their losses." Seventy 
persons, including but sixteen men, were at the house 
of one Bourne, to which the horsemen also repaired. 
Next day a party was sent with carts to bring some 
corn from a house which had been abandoned. They 
were cautioned to be careful, but seem not to have 
heeded the warning. Suddenly they found them- 
selves surrounded by hidden enemies, w r ho poured 
upon them a heavy and well-directed fire. Six were 
killed or mortally wounded. The soldiers at the 
garrison, hearing the report of fire arms, hurried to 
the spot, but were too late. 

June 24 had been appointed by the governor as a 
day of fasting and humiliation. All the churches 
were open, and the exercises in view of the solemn 
occasion, were of a peculiarly impressive character. 
According to the New England custom, all who 
could, attended, thus leaving their houses defenceless. 
So favourable an opportunity to harass their enemies 
was not overlooked by the Indians. While the con- 
gregation at Swansey were returning home, some of 
them were fired upon from hedges and trees which 
skirted the highway. Three fell, one of them dead. 
Two of their companions running for a surgeon were 
both killed. Confusion and distress ensued. Each 

5 



66 



king Philip's war. 



thought of his own safety, neither affording help nor 
attempting resistance. During this perplexity, the 
Indians entered a house in the suburbs, rifled it and 
killed six men. At Rehoboth, a man was fired at ; 
the bullet struck his sword's hilt, knocked it off, and 
he escaped. At the same time the town was ascer- 
tained to be on fire. The flames spread from house 
to house until one half of the whole number were 
enveloped in flames. With this sight before them, 
and amid the yells of the savages, and the occasional 
discharge of musketry, some of the inhabitants fled 
from the town, while others hurried into the fort. 
Before the firing ceased, two messengers arrived 
from Massachusetts. That government had for- 
warded the supplies solicited by Plymouth, but at 
the same time with an anxiety to maintain peace 
which does it credit, sent an embassy to Philip, to 
obtain a friendly conference. It was composed of 
the two messengers alluded to above. The desola- 
tion of Swansey, and the dead bodies in the highway, 
apprised them that their mission was useless, and fear- 
ful for their safety they returned in all haste to Boston. 
The report of this affair spread throughout the colo- 
nies. Massachusetts, abandoning her hopes of effecting 
a reconciliation, resolved on using every exertion to 
support her sister colony. A company of infantry, 
under Captain Henchman, and one of horse, under 
Captain Prentice, marched for Mount Hope. Their 
progress was harassed by gloomy forebodings, strength- 
ened by " visible signs" in the heavens. An eclipse 
of the moon was construed into an omen of future 



SOLDIERS DISCUSSING TUB PORTENTS AND SIGNS. 

(68) 



king philip's war. 



69 



misfortune. Some imagined that the shadow re- 
sembled a scalp ; others saw an Indian bow. Accord- 
ingly, on reaching Rehoboth (now Attleborough), half 
way between Boston and Swansey, they halted to 
await the arrival of a company of volunteers, com- 
manded by Captain Mosely. 

Mosely was w r ell qualified to dispel all childish 
fears. Gifted by nature with an intrepid spirit, he 
had early in life enlisted as a soldier. Afterwards 
he joined a party of buccaneers in the West Indies, 
and subsequently resided at Jamaica. In New Eng- 
land he had become a favourite, a somewhat singular 
circumstance, when we consider how starched were 
the notions of the Puritans, concerning that mode of 
life of which the captain had been a votary. 

He joined the two companies on the day of their 
halt,, having with him one hundred and ten volun- 
teers, some of whom were accompanied by dogs. 
The whole party reached Swansey on the 28th. 
Here they found two companies of Plymouth troops, 
commanded by James Cudworth, lately appointed 
general. The house of Mr. Miles, an Anabaptist 
minister, was chosen as the head-quarters. It was 
situated near a bridge, thrown across the inlet on 
w T hich the town is built, and which affords an easy 
access from the Plymouth colony to Mount Hope. 
A separate detachment was posted at the house of 
Mr. Brown. 

The Indians, undismayed by this formidable array, 
crept near the garrison and shot two of the sentinels. 
It was evening before the Massachusetts forces ar- 



70 KING PHILIPS WAR. 

rived. The impression in the town appears to have 
been, that the Indians designed a general assault. 
Accordingly, twelve of the newly arrived cavalry, 
under quartermasters Gill and Belcher, volunteered 
to scour the adjacent country. Church accompanied 
them on horseback at their own request. 

Immediately after crossing Miles's bridge, they 
were fired upon by about twelve Indians, who lay 
concealed among some bushes. The guide, Ham- 
mond, was mortally wounded; Belcher received a 
shot in the knee and had his horse killed. The 
horsemen immediately wheeled round and retreated. 
But Hammond being still on his horse, and insensible, 
Church called to them not to leave him a prey to the 
Indians. " Too intent on their own safety to attend 
to that of their friends, they gave no heed to him. 
Church then requested Gill and another man to assist 
him in bringing away the wounded man. Hammond 
fell from his horse before they reached him. Happily 
for his friends the Indians had retired after their first 
fire ; hence Church and his companion had time to 
dismount and lift the body upon Gill's horse. He then 
ran after the horse which was hurrying toward the 
enemy, at the same time calling to the horsemen to 
return and fight. While he was making this vain 
appeal, the Indians returned to their former station, 
and simultaneously discharged their guns at him. 
He remained unhurt, though one of the balls wounded 
a trooper. He then joined the others, and the party 
recrossed the bridge. 

On the following morning, several Indians appeared 



9 



king philip's war. 71 

on the bridge, dancing and shouting the war-whoop. 
As the garrison in Miles's house remained quiet, they 
became bolder, and crossed to the Swansey side. 
Indignant to be thus challenged by a handful of In- 
dians, Captain Mosely, at the head of his volunteers, 
sallied from the fort, and drove the enemy to the 
other side. Elated by this success, the garrison re- 
solved upon their " marching down into the neck," 
with the design of attacking King Philip. In order 
that nothing might prevent the consummation of this 
grand enterprise, they extended their line, in order 
to stretch as far as possible across the neck. Owing 
to this egregious blunder, one w r ing imagined the 
other to be the enemy, and fired upon it. The re- 
sult was, that Ensign Savage, a young man, received 
a flesh wound in the thigh. Undismayed by this 
accident, they marched on in high spirits, until 
having reached Keekamuit, where were the heads of 
eight white persons set upon poles. These were the 
remains of persons who had been killed at Matapoiset 
neck. They -were taken down and buried. 

The troops saw nothing of Philip. He had made 
his escape, with his canoes, arms, and provisions. 
The tempestuous state of the weather greatly im- 
peded their operations, and rendered it difficult to 
procure sufficient supplies of food. On reaching 
Mount Hope, they found the wigwams deserted, and 
many indications of the haste with which Philip had 
abandoned his favourite haunts. As the storm con- 
tinued, one Captain Cudworth, with some of the 
Plymouth forces, crossed to Rhode Island, where he 



I 

72 king philip's war. 

hoped to find shelter. Major Savage, with the Massa- 
chusetts troops, lay in the open fields all night. 
Next morning they returned to Swansey. The 
cavalry in moving to the same place, discovered 
some Indians near Rehoboth, burning houses. They 
fired upon them, killing four or five, and losing but 
one of their own number. A sachem and one of 
Philip's counsellors were among the slain. 

Intelligence was now received that Philip was at 
Pocasset, a small peninsula in the northern part of 
Massachusetts Bay. Church urged an immediate 
pursuit ; but it was resolved that the cavalry should 
scour the Wampanoag country, while Captain Mosely 
marched to Mount Hope for the purpose of fighting 
the enemy should he be there. After a thorough 
search they returned without making any discoveries. 

The fact that Philip had been driven from Mount 
Hope, filled many of the troops with excessive joy. 
Some appear to have entertained the hope that the 
war was ended; while others indulged grateful re- 
flections on the prowess which had so speedily de- 
livered the country of its most formidable enemy. 
It was the opinion of Church, however, that the war 
was not yet ended ; and before congratulating him- 
self for present security, he deemed it proper to 
await the events of the future. 



church's fight at pocasset. 

On the return of the cavalry and volunteers from 
their unsuccessful search after Philip, Church again 
advised an expedition to Pocasset, but the officers 
had resolved on other measures. It was agreed to 
erect a fort at Mount Hope. Church declaimed 
against it as a useless waste of time, since in Indian 
warfare forts are of little utility. The fort was built, 
and forty men placed in it to watch for Indians. 
Early in July, the commissary-general, weary of his 
post, resigned. Church succeeded him. This state 
of perplexing idleness was terminated by the arrival 
of Captain Hutchinson from Boston. He bore with 
him orders from government to proceed to the Narra- 
gansett country, and prevent that tribe from joining 
Philip. On the following morning, a council of 
officers decided upon offering the alternative of peace 

(73) 



74 king philip's war. 

or war. The whole force from Massachusetts was 
put in motion. Arriving at their destination, they 
demanded instant submission. Bewildered by this 
unexpected visit, the Narragansetts found no time to 
deliberate, for hundreds of armed men stood before 
them ready to begin the work of extermination. The 
terms were dictated by the officers, and subscribed 
by the chiefs present. They were in substance, that 
any of Philip's sachems who might take refuge in 
Narragansett, should be surrendered ,to the English, 
" living or dead ;" " that they should with their utmost 
ability use all acts of hostility against the said Philip 
and his subjects, entering his lands or any other lands 
of the English to kill and destroy the said enemy 
that all goods stolen from the English should be 
restored, and " full satisfaction" made ; that hostages 
should remain with the English, and that should 
they deliver Philip alive to the authorities, they 
would be rewarded with "forty trucking cloth coats," 
or with twenty for his head. Four days after the 
conclusion of this treaty, the Massachusetts men re- 
turned to Swansey. 

Meanwhile, Church had urged the commander of 
the Plymouth troops, General Cudworth, to proceed 
against Pocasset. The general was more remarkable 
for caution than valour ; but after a long season of 
shuffling, which exposed him to the derision of the 
few brave men he commanded, he despatched Cap- 
tain Fuller with fifty men to negotiate a treaty with 
the Pocasset Indians. Church accompanied the 
party as lieutenant. Cudworth resolved to march in 



KING PHILIP'S WAR. 



75 



person through. Rehoboth and Taunton, so as to meet 
the enemy at Dartmouth. 

Fuller's party proceeded to Pocasset in boats. He 
scoured the country for some distance, but seeing no 
enemy, became discouraged, and took up his station 
for the night. He would probably have returned to 
Swansey, but for the solicitations of Church, who was 
persuaded that the Indians lay concealed in the neigh- 
bourhood. The unpleasantness of their situation 
was increased by the want of provisions. The in- 
dividual whose duty was to transmit these, neglected 
to do so, and only the following morning they 
breakfasted on some hard rusk, which Church hap- 
pened to carry in his pocket. After finishing the 
scanty meal, Church proposed to march in quest of 
the enemy; Fuller agreed, though with much re- 
luctance, while several of the men taunted the for- 
mer officer for bringing them in search of an enemy 
that could not be seen. Church replied that they 
would soon see enough. The party, thirty-six in all, 
was then divided, Church receiving nineteen and 
Fuller the remainder. The Captain had not proceeded 
far when a large party of Indians came toward him, 
shouting and exhibiting signs of great fury. All 
idea of negotiating a treaty was abandoned, and he 
hurried with his men as fast as possible toward the 
shore. An old house afforded them temporary shel- 
ter ; here they remained, expecting an immediate 
assault, until a sloop from Rhode Island appeared, 
when they embarked without further loss. In this 
affair two men were wounded. 



76 



king Philip's wa.r. 



Meanwhile Church and his men were penetrating 
into the Namaquaquat neck. Lighting upon an In- 
dian track they followed it for some distance. One 
of them was soon scared by a rattlesnake, and a 
careful examination showed that many more of these 
reptiles were in the woods on each side, " which the 
little company were more afraid of, than the black 
serpents they were in quest of." This induced them 
to alter their route, a fortunate circumstance, as the 
track would have led them directly through a swamp 
which swarmed with Indians. Entering the Po- 
casset neck, they discovered fresh tracks, and soon 
after, the party having entered a pea-field, divided 
into two parts, the better to make observations. Im- 
mediately after, two Indians made their appearance, 
when Church with the few men near him, concealed 
themselves by falling upon the ground. The other 
division, not using the same caution, were discovered. 
The Indians ran, and Church pursued. After climb- 
ing a fence, one of them turned and discharged his 
piece at Church. The shot was ineffectual ; but a 
soldier who fired at the Indian was believed to have 
wounded him. 

The men had scarcely recommenced their march 
through a woody region, when a volley of fifty or 
sixty guns was discharged upon them. " Some^bul- 
lets came very surprisingly near Mr. Church." He 
looked back for his men. Not one of them was killed, 
the balls having passed over them. With wonder- 
ful presence of mind, he called to them not to dis- 
charge all their pieces at once, lest the enemy might 



king philip's war. 



77 



run on them with their hatchets. They then re- 
treated in all haste to the pea-field. Such as had not 
discharged their guns were ordered to lie under the 
fence and fire upon the enemy should they appear. 
But while taking this and other measures of security, 
Church observed that the hill " seemed to move, 
being covered over with Indians, with their bright 
guns glittering in the sun, and running in a circum- 
ference with a design to surround them." At this 
moment he perceived some men with a number of 
horses at a place called Sandy Point. They were 
a party who had arrived that morning to secure some 
cattle and horses. Having been surprised by the 
Indians several of their number were killed or 
wounded. Unaware of these circumstances, Church 
imagined that it might be a company who would 
afford relief, and ordered his men to throw off their 
coats, so that it might be discovered by their white 
shirts how small was their number. The movement 
was of course ineffectual, and at the same time the battle 
recommenced. Some of the men, being very hungry, 
stopped to gather peas. A volley was discharged at 
them, after which they fled in all haste toward 
Church. Every rock, stump, tree, and fence, con- 
cealed an Indian ; the firing was incessant, and at 
times the smoke was so dense, as effectually to hide 
all surrounding objects. The soldiers were imper- 
fectly sheltered by a small bank and part of a water 
fence. Their danger increased after the Indians took 
possession of an old stone house which overlooked 
them* Their destruction now appeared inevitable, 



78 



king philip's war. 



but Church ordered them to heap up large stones 
in front. They obeyed with alacrity, working and dis- 
charging their pieces together, until they had formed 
a kind of loose, yet efficient breastwork. 

One of the boats now approached. As she neared 
the land, the Indians poured' into her a volley of 
shot and drove her off. Church called to them to 
come and carry away his men, but the terrified boat- 
men would not make a second attempt. Some of 
the soldiers begged them for God's sake to come, 
since their ammunition was spent. Church was 
aware that should this information reach the Indians, 
there would be little hope of their escape. He there- 
fore sternly called to the boatmaster, either to land 
or retire, or he would fire upon him. The boat soon 
disappeared. Animated by this circumstance, the 
Indians uttered shouts of exultation, and redoubled 
their fire. Cut off from all succour the soldiers be- 
came disheartened, and proposed a retreat. Church 
succeeded in convincing them that this would result 
in certain destruction, and to keep up their spirits he 
resorted to every argument which his ingenuity could 
devise. Refering to their remarkable preservation 
when first meeting the Indians, he declared his con- 
viction that God w T ould still guard them, so that " not 
a hair of their heads should fall to the ground." He 
exhorted them to be patient, courageous, and sparing 
of their ammunition. While delivering these orders, 
an incident occurred w r orthy of record. " One of 
them was pitching a flat stone upon end before him 
in the sand, when a bullet from the enemy, with a 



king philip's war. 



79 



full force, struck the stone while he was pitching it 
on end, which put the poor fellow to a miserable 
start, till Mr. Church called upon him to observe 
how God directed the bullets, that the enemy could 
not hit him when in the same place, yet could hit 
the stone as it was erected." Thus did this remark- 
able man arouse the sinking spirits of his little band, 
and encourage a mere handful of men to fight on 
almost against hope, with a foe ten times their num- 
ber. For six hours they maintained the conflict, 
strengthening their breastwork, occasionally return- 
ing the fire of the Indians, or watching for the arrival 
of a vessel. The day (July 8) was very warm. 
The evening approached, and still the Indians kept 
up their fire, while their numbers seemed to increase 
rather than diminish. Bullets fell thick and fast 
around the breastwork, and the shouts of the savages 
resounded through the woods in every direction. 
By sunset the ammunition of the soldiers was ex- 
hausted ; their guns were foul from constant firing, 
and the savage enemy seemed pressing upon them. 
Even the exhortations of Church were received in 
despair, for now, after so gallant a struggle, they lay 
almost helpless behind their imperfect breastwork. 
Suddenly a sloop was descried descending the river 
near a small island. Church immediately declared 
his belief that it was his friend, Captain Golding, 
and assured his men that succour was nigh. Nor 
was he mistaken. Golding was recognized by 
Church, who called to him to cast anchor and send 
his canoe ashore. The captain did so, but his canoe 



80 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



was so small that it could carry but two at a time. 
To divert the attention of the Indians, the sloop kept 
up a sharp fire, which covered the retreat of the party 
on shore. Church was the last man to embark. He 
had left his hat and cutlass at a well, and notwith- 
standing the entreaties of his friends, ran to bring 
them. He reached the place in safety, most probably 
favoured by the evening, brought away the articles, 
and fired his last charge at the enemy before stepping 
into the boat. " Two bullets from the enemy struck 
the canoe as he went on board, one grazed the hair 
of his head, a little before another stuck in a small 
stake that stood right against the middle of his 
breast." 

The Indians concerned in this affair are said to 
have numbered one hundred and fifty. Perhaps 
this is an exaggeration, at least from the circumstances 
under which the soldiers fought, it was impossible 
to determine correctly. Nor is it know T n whether 
more than one Indian was killed. That the colonists 
escaped a general massacre, must be ascribed to the 
cowardice of the Pocasset Indians, but especially to 
the conduct of Church. Never did the strong in- 
fluence which he could exert over other men shine 
more conspicuously than on this day ; and the fact 
that after a long day's fight, he brought away his 
handful of followers, not with great loss, but without 
a single wound, should render his name memorable 
in the history of Indian warfare. 

Soon after this affair Church rejoined Fuller, when 
the party proceeded to the fort at Mount Hope. The 



king philip's war 



81 



success of the fight at Pocasset Neck encouraged the 
colonists, and gave the soldiers confidence in the 
talents and fortune of Church. The latter soon after 
revisited Pocasset, and again encountered the Indians. 
Several of their warriors were killed and the others 
retreated. 




6 



ESCAPE OF PHILIP FROM POCASSET. 



The visit of Church to Weetamoo, the Indian 
queen, has been mentioned in a former chapter. Its 
result was unsatisfactory, but it appears that she 
entertained no thoughts of connecting herself with the 
English. There is reason to believe that she secretly 
rejoiced at the prospect of war, as it would afford 
her brother-in-law, Philip, an opportunity to revenge 
the death of Alexander. Accordingly, soon after the 
affair at Pocasset, Church was informed by one 
Alderman, a subject of the queen, that she had re- 
solved on joining Philip. This man offered to con- 
duct Church to Weetamoo's quarters. Appreciating 
the importance of this information, Church repaired 
to Mount Hope, and urged the garrison to an imme- 
diate expedition against the queen. The soldiers 
heard him with enthusiasm ; a party set forward 
under Captain , and they marched rapidly for 

(82) 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



83 



nearly an hour under the guidance of Alderman. 
The captain then halted, and calling Church and the 
guide, asked them " hqw they knew that Philip and 
all his men were not by that time got to Weetamoo's 
camp, that by that time all her own men were not re- 
turned to her again." Church replied that in either 
case there was nothing discouraging ; that he would 
guide him to the spot, and was willing to encounter 
more than his proper share of danger. That the 
captain was a coward neither of them doubted, and 
as he still objected, Church advised him, since he 
was so desirous of his men's safety, to march them to 
the wind-mill on Rhode Island. The captain was 
impervious to taunts as well as entreaties, nor w T as the 
march resumed until he returned to the fort and ob- 
tained an additional force. The whole party then 
proceeded in a sloop to Fall river, where were Wee- 
tamoo's head-quarters. Church, Baxter, and an In- 
dian named Hunter, were sent on a scout. Hunter 
caught one of his kinsmen and despatched him, and 
on reaching Weetamoo's camp, they fired upon a 
young Indian and killed him. The alarm being thus 
given, the Indians fled into an adjoining cedar swamp. 
The soldiers pursued rapidly, but on reaching the 
edge of the swamp were suddenly ordered back. 
With such haste did the captain hurry them toward 
the sloop, that the savages issued from the swamp, 
pursued them in turn, and wounded two. Next day 
they returned to the fort. 

About this time an attack was made upon Dart- 
mouth, the greater part of which was burned. Few 



84 



king Philip's war. 



particulars have been preserved of this occurrence. 
Several persons were murdered ; many appear to 
have retired to Rhode Island, and the remainder to 
Russell's house at Aponeganset, which was converted 
into a garrison. The Plymouth forces were imme- 
diately ordered to the town. Their first efforts were 
to be exerted for obtaining a treaty with the Dart- 
mouth Indians, who had not yet been engaged in 
hostilities. Captain Eels and Ralph Earl laboured 
industriously to effect this, and by the assistance of a 
friendly Indian, induced all these Indians to sur- 
render. Had government treated these unfortunate 
beings, who had thus thrown themselves upon it for 
protection with kindness, many of them would doubt- 
less have followed their example. Many who sub- 
sequently took part with Philip, were at this time 
well-disposed toward the English. But to the per- 
petual infamy of Plymouth, she resolved to sell them 
into slavery. Indignant at such a breach of faith, 
Eels and Earl denounced it in the strongest terms, 
and implored that their promise might be held sacred. 
The warmth and bitterness with which the honest 
spirit of Church rebelled against the nefarious design, 
destroyed his popularity, so that "the resentment 
which was then engendered, induced them to with- 
hold all command from this brave, skilful, honest, 
open-hearted, and generous man, until the fear of 
utter destruction compelled them subsequently to 
intrust him with a high command." The entreaties 
of such men were ineffectual. One hundred and 
sixty innocent persons were transported from the 



king philip's war. 



85 



colony and sold into slavery. The crime brought its 
own punishment. Plymouth could not have com- 
mitted a greater blunder, for from that day, -until the 
whole force of New England was in arms, the cause 
of Philip strengthened and nourished. 

The Massachusetts troops, after returning from 
Narragansett, joined the Plymouth men under 
Cudworth, at Taunton (July 18), when the united 
forces marched to Pocasset eighteen miles distant. 
The Indians were concealed in the swamp on the 
eastern side of the neck or peninsula. This swamp 
was seven miles long, and so dense as to be almost 
impenetrable. Skirting it were one hundred wig- 
wams which had just been abandoned. The English 
attempted to fire them, but being constructed of 
green bark, they would not burn. In one of them 
was captured an aged Indian. By his examination 
it was ascertained that Philip was in the swamp. 

The soldiers were now impatient to enter the 
swamp. Their first attempt was greeted by a heavy 
fire, by which five were killed and seven wounded. 
They fought on with* great resolution until dark, 
when the battle still continuing, they began to fall 
into confusion. Trees were mistaken for Indians, 
and orders neglected or misunderstood. Deeming it 
useless to maintain the conflict, Cudworth ordered a 
retreat, and the men retired, bearing with them the 
dead and wounded. 

The attack having failed, it was resolved to sur- 
round Philip until he would be starved into a sur- 
render. For this purpose the Plymouth forces 



86 



king philip's war. 



formed a half circle around the swamp, so that the 
Indians were inclosed on all sides except the east, 
where the swamp ran down into the sea. No fear 
was entertained that he could escape by water. The 
Massachusetts troops, deeming their presence un- 
necessary, departed from Pocasset, with the exception 
of Captain Henchman and one hundred men. These, 
with the Plymouth forces, commenced the erection 
of another fort, which was to be the head-quarters 
until Philip was starved. 

Philip's situation was critical. If he remained on 
the peninsula he was certain of being captured ; and 
he knew too well the tender mercies of his enemies, 
not to use every exertion to avoid being taken alive. 
He resolved therefore on attempting an escape by 
water. The attempt was hazardous, but the skill 
and courage of the chief triumphed. Near the 
swamp, was the Taunton river, a stream of consider- 
able width, whose opposite shore was the main land. 
In the last night of July, the sachem silently tran- 
sported his warriors across this stream, some on rafts, 
others by swimming. Philip escaped on a loose float 
of timber which he guided with his own hands. 

He lost no time in announcing his escape to the 
colonists. Taunton was first attacked. Two houses 
were burned and three men killed. When the news 
of this affair reached Rehoboth, Mr. Newman, the 
minister, thinking that the time for girding on the 
sword had arrived, called his people to follow him, 
sallied from the town, and pursued Philip with most 
encouraging zeal. Being joined by a company of 



XING PHILIP ESCAPING FROM THE BYT AMP ON A RAPT. 



king philip's war. 



89 



Mohegan Indians, the spiritual warrior conducted 
the march with such haste, that at night he came up 
with the enemy's rear. A fight speedily ensued, in 
which thirty of Philip's men were killed and much 
booty taken. Not a man of the parson's forces was 
killed or wounded. They subsequently joined Cap- 
tain Henchman, who with six files of men had been 
pursuing Philip since his flight was known. The 
captain was soon after reinforced by Captain Mosely ; 
but receiving instructions from the Massachusetts 
government, he returned to Boston and disbanded his 
men. 



THE WAR IN THE NIPMUCK TERRITORY DEFENCE 

OF BROOKFIELD. 

Hitherto Philip had confined his operations to 
that part of the Plymouth colony lying in and around 
Narragansett Bay, which is now included in the 
county of Bristol. On escaping from Pocasset, he 
retired to the Nipmuck country, and the main seat 
of war was consequently transferred to that region. 
The reader will remember that this territory was the 
middle of Massachusetts, now forming the county of 
"Worcester, and that it was mostly a wilderness, with 
a few isolated settlements scattered among the Indian 
villages. 

The first attack was on Mendon. This town, now 
of considerable size, is situated on a small branch of 
the Black Stone river, near the present boundary 
between Massachusetts and Rhode Island. The sur- 
face of the ground is undulating, the soil fertile, the 

(90) 



king philip's war. 



91 



scenery pleasant. It was founded in 1647, and in- 
corporated twenty years after. In 1675, the surround- 
ing region was a wilderness filled with Indians. 

On the 14th of July, the people of Mendon, while 
engaged in the fields, were attacked, and five or six 
of them killed. After the first fire, the Indians fled 
into the woods. The farmers in wild affright ga- 
thered and packed their goods, and escaped to the 
settled counties. The Indians then entered the town 
and reduced the houses to ashes. 

This event alarmed the Massachusetts government, 
lest the Nipmucks would engage in the war. Mes- 
sengers were sent amongst them, who, while pre- 
tending to trade, watched closely the movements of 
their warriors. The young men were evidently de- 
sirous of war, but the principal sachems were de- 
sirous of maintaining peace with the colony. Toward 
the close of July, Captain Hutchinson had been de- 
spatched for the purpose of treating with them, and 
in a few days he was joined by Captain Wheeler 
with twenty men. 

"Wheeler immediately marched for Brookfield, 
situate in the interior of the Nipmuck country near 
the western boundary of the present county of Wor- 
cester. On arriving there they found every thing 
quiet, and the inhabitants preparing to meet the In- 
dians at a place appointed, for the purpose of effecting 
a treaty. Wheeler and Hutchinson, approving the 
measure, accompanied the principal inhabitants with 
their cavalry. On reaching the place (August 2) no 
Indians were discovered. This was sufficient to 



92 king philip's war. 

excite suspicion; yet the inhabitants with singular 
carelessness, continued to press forward toward the 
Indian village, notwithstanding that they were desti- 
tute of arms. On reaching a place called Momimim- 
issit, the road wound through a long narrow defile, 
skirted on one side by an almost perpendicular rock, 
and on the other by a dense swamp. The band en- 
tered it without hesitation, and their first intimation 
of danger, was the war-whoop. Before the astonished 
men could ascertain whence it came, two hundred 
Indians fired upon them from all directions. The 
swamp seemed on fire with the continuous discharges; 
the rocks echoed back the reports of musketry and 
the yells of the savages, while around the bewildered, 
devoted colonists, balls ploughed up the ground and 
whistled like hail. Eight fell dead at the first fire. 
Hutchinson and two others were mortally wounded. 
Wheeler was wounded in the body and had his horse 
shot under him. The latter officer was saved by his 
son, who was himself wounded in the arm. Seeing 
his father's situation, he dismounted, placed him on 
his horse, and mounting another, whose rider had 
been killed, he rode through the pass and escaped. 
The survivors attempted to retreat, but the road by 
which they had come was flanked by the Indians. 
The horrors of their situation now broke upon them. 
The enemy swarmed in the thicket and cut off the 
avenues of retreat. It was death to remain and death 
to fly. In this crisis one of their number reached 
the opening of a secret pass, and led his companions 
through it. 



king philip's war. 



93 



They hurried toward Brookfield. The Indians 
pursued so rapidly that they reached the town almost 
with the fugitives, and then joined a party which had 
driven the remainder of the inhabitants into one of 
the houses. All the other buildings, bams, and 
out-houses had been destroyed. The remnant of 
Wheeler's company succeeded in reaching the house 
in safety. The Indians then rushed amid the burn- 
ing masses, searching for fugitives and plunder. 
They then reassembled their forces for an attack on 
the house. 

This building was situated upon a hill, and being the 
largest in the town, was better adapted than any other 
to defend a garrison. Heavy logs were piled on the 
outside, and within the men hung feather beds against 
the walls to intercept the bullets. The Indians 
rushed to the attack in masses, shouting their war- 
whoop without ceasing, and pouring against the 
doors and windows a storm of iron hail. They 
thrust fire-brands and cloth dipped in burning brim- 
stone against its sides. They beat the doors with 
poles and clubs, and in the fury of impatience, dashed 
their hatchets against the piled logs. The scene pre 
sented by the rolling flames, the desolation of the 
town, the whole force of more than two hundred In- 
dians, who, painted and dressed in the wildest man- 
ner, demanded with hideous distortions of limb and 
feature the surrender of the garrison, was appalling. 
But the garrison fought on bravely. Sheltering the 
women and children as much as possible, they en- 
couraged each other by voice and gesture, and plied 



j 

94 king philip's war. 

their fire-arms one after another, with the resolution 
of men determined rather to die than yield. When 
flames communicated to the house, and the shrieking 
women exclaimed that all was lost, a few of their 
boldest men, leaving the house, ran across the yard, 
drew water from a w T ell, and returned unhurt. The 
fire was extinguished. The fury of the Indians at 
this failure of their scheme was lashed to the highest 
pitch. Filling a cart with hemp, flax, and other 
combustibles, they set the whole on fire, and pushed 
it with long poles toward the garrison ; but the flames 
were extinguished by a shower of rain. The enemy 
abandoning their usual caution, exposed themselves 
with the greatest bravery, although their loss was 
very heavy ; they repeated their efforts to burn the 
house, and during several hours continued firing upon 
it. Evening brought no cessation of this obstinate 
battle ; nor did the garrison receive a temporary rest 
until night had settled round. The action recom- 
menced at daybreak, and continued throughout that 
day. The strength of the garrison began to diminish, 
and hope expires with strength. No settlement w T as 
near enough to hear the firing ; their ammunition 
was failing ; the Indians seemed to multiply on all 
sides. The savages, sure of their prey, taunted their 
measures of defence, sung the death song, and danced 
the scalp dance. Only the dread of the horrid scene 
that would ensue, soon as the doors were forced, 
kept the garrison to their posts. 

But deliverance came, and from a quarter little 
expected. 



king philip's war. 



95 



Major Willard, with Captain Parker and forty-six 
men, had been despatched against some Indians west 
of Boston. Hearing that Brookfield was threatened, 
he marched in all haste to succour it. He reached 
the scene of action on the third day. So skilfully 
had his march been conducted, that though the In- 
dians had guarded the road to Boston, he escaped 
them, and joined the garrison before he was perceived. 
Never did a gladder shout ring out from men op- 
pressed than that which greeted his arrival. The 
united force was in full play upon the Indians with- 
out loss of time ; the savages retired with sullen yells 
of rage and mortification, and after completing the 
desolation of the town, they secreted themselves in 
the woods. 

During the siege the house was perforated with 
bullets, but so effectually had the garrison fortified 
themselves, that but one of their number was killed. 
The loss of the Indians, owing to the manner in 
which they exposed themselves, was very great. 
Eighty were believed to have been killed. They 
were afterwards (August 5) joined by Philip with 
forty warriors and many women and children. 

The garrison remained at this solitary house till 
winter. Captains Lothrop, Beers, and Mosely, ar- 
rived in the neighbourhood soon after and scoured 
the woods in quest of Indians. Their exertions were 
attended with little success. Most of the Indians 
had retired toward the Connecticut, and were secretly 
planning attacks upon the small towns in that distant 
quarter. 



DEFENCE OF HADLEY. 



Before continuing the narrative of Philip's opera- 
tions, it may be proper to glance at some acts of the 
colonial governments, which display the exasperated 
condition of the public feeling at that period. 

Plymouth passed a law to punish with death any 
person who gave, sold, or bartered, arms to the In- 
dians. In Massachusetts, the colonists were in a 
state of fearful excitement against the praying In- 
dians. Notwithstanding the exertions of Eliot, Goo- 
kin, and other good men, these people were not 
allowed to remain neutral. No distinction was made 
between the savage in arms, and the mild convert 
who had been taught to pray to the Englishman's 
God. Even such as had rendered good service to the 
colonists as guides, were treated so harshly, that in 
self defence they refused to render further assistance. 
One of this class, who had gone to the enemy, was 

(96) 



king philip's war. 



97 



captured, and sent to Jamaica a slave. Eliot inter- 
ceded for him. Several Christian Indians were 
charged with murdering people at Lancaster. The 
charge was so utterly groundless, that even a Boston 
jury could not find them guilty. Eliot, Major Goo- 
kin, the Indian commissioner, and Major Willard, 
stood by them at the trial. Their repeated solicita- 
tions, in the name of justice, in the name of humanity, 
and of religion, w r ere successful, and eight of these 
innocent persons w r ere acquitted. At this act of 
mercy all Boston w r as in a tumult of fury. A party 
surrounded the house of Captain Oliver, breathing 
vengeance unless he complied w T ith their wishes. 
These were, that he should place himself in com- 
mand of a party, break open the prison, and by way 
of example, hang at least one Indian. One of their 
number entered the house and made the nefarious 
proposal. The intrepid captain carried him into the 
street, and in all haste notified the governor of his 
situation. But the mob increased, the prison was 
surrounded, all the officers of government were 
threatened, and a serious riot seemed to be approach- 
ing. Eliot was denounced as a traitor and an abettor 
of incendiaries, and there is reason to believe that 
his life was threatened. The governor yielded to the 
mob ; an Indian was delivered to them, and hanged 
on the spot. Very soon after laws were passed to 
"regulate" the praying Indians, and so bitter was the 
feeling against those who exhibited symptoms of 
humanity toward the red men, that Gookin, from the 
court bench, declared he was afraid to walk the streets. 

7 



98 king philip's war. 

About this time Major Willard was cashiered for 
disobedience of orders in marching to the relief of 
Brookfield. This brave man, too humane for his 
age, felt the rebuke so keenly, that he soon after- 
wards died broken hearted. 

By the exertions of Willard, Mosely, and Lothrop, 
Philip had been driven to the forests bordering upon 
the Connecticut. Consequently the war, which had 
already shifted from Plymouth to Natick, was now 
transferred to the settlements of that region. By a 
reference to the introduction, it will be seen that the 
inhabitants were few, weak, and scattered over much 
space. In consequence of some suspicious acts on 
the part of the Indians of Hadley, government had 
demanded the surrender of their arms. They imme- 
diately fled to Philip. Beers and Lothrop pursued 
them, killing twenty-six men, and losing ten. To 
avenge the death of their countrymen, the Indians 
planned an attack upon Hadley. 

Hadley is a thriving town situated on the east 
bank of the Connecticut, at the entrance of a neck 
of land formed by a bend of the river, and directly 
north of Mount Holyoke. In 1659, Mr. Russel, 
minister at Wethersfield, was driven from Connecti- 
cut, because he differed from the authorities in his 
opinions on baptism, church ordination, &c. " In 
order to enjoy peace and harmony," he wandered into 
the wilderness and founded the town of Hadley. 
His congregation numbered about thirty persons, 
but it increased considerably until the commencement 
of Philip's war. The cultivation of broom corn has 



king philip's war. 



99 



ever been an important part of the agriculture of 
Hadley, and for this purpose, as well as for pasturage, 
the meadows along the Connecticut are some of the 
finest in New England. In 1675 Hadley was a vil- 
lage, having few houses, and destitute of effectual 
means of defence. 

The Indians selected their time for the attack with 
their usual caution. The first of September was a 
fast day ; most, perhaps all of the people were at 
church, and as no attack had been anticipated, no 
guard was at their station to watch. Amid the pro- 
found silence attending religious service, the war- 
whoop suddenly broke over the village, and scores of 
Indians rushed toward the meeting house. Those of 
the congregation who first appeared were shot down. 
The words of the preacher were arrested ; men, wo- 
men, and children, rushed from their seats, and cries 
of terror and distress resounded through the church. 

Happily a portion of the men had brought their 
guns. These they seized, and while the aged Mr. 
Russel with the church officers quieted the feebler 
portion of the crowded company, the armed men en- 
deavoured to repulse the Indians. The latter ad- 
vanced boldly, discharging their pieces in rapid suc- 
cession, and attempting to burn the house. They 
were met with equal resolution, and for awhile the 
battle was obstinate and bloody. The assailants far 
outnumbered their antagonists, and this circumstance, 
together with the hideous appearances of savages in 
battle, daunted many who would otherwise have 
assisted their comrades. The party became dis- 



100 



Kl ^ G PHILIP S WAR. 



couraged, and in making a retrograde movement, 
probably for the purpose of regaining the church, 
fell into confusion. The savages, sure of victory, 
pressed on with terrific j ells, shaking their hatchets 
in the air, and preparing to burn the church. In a 
few moments Hadley would experience the fate of 
Brookfield. 

At this critical moment the villagers perceived 
among them a man whom nobody had noticed before. 
His dress, manners, and whole appearance were 
different from their own. His hair flowing to his 
neck was of silvery whiteness ; yet he stood tall and 
erect as though in the vigour of youth. There was 
something terrible in the calmness, with which in 
that hour of dismay, he hurried to the front and 
called upon the villagers to follow him. Awe-struck 
at his powerful voice and noble figure, they for a 
moment ceased to think of the Indians. Seizing 
that moment he rallied their spirits, formed the little 
band into full military figure, and encouraged them 
to face the foe. The balls flew harmless by him ; 
every where his voice was heard cheering to duty, 
and his long hair seen streaming in the breeze. 
Roused from their wonder at his first appearance, 
the men renewed the fight, and pressed forward un- 
der the stranger's guidance to charge the enemy. 
Success attended them at every step ; the Indians 
broke and fled in all directions, and a party of them 
were pursued a considerable distance. But when 
the grateful villagers paused to clasp the hand of 
their benefactor he was gone. In the hurry of pur- 



king philip's war. 



101 



suit, none had seen him depart, nor was there any 
there who had ever before seen him. They looked 
upon each other in silence — the inference could not 
be mistaken. The strange warrior was no mortal 
being — the guardian angel of Had ley had appeared 
in human shape to succour the chosen people of God. 

This opinion was long entertained in the village 
and throughout the greater part of New England. 
Subsequently the mystery was explained. It may 
not be foreign to our subject, nor unacceptable to the 
reader, to notice some incidents in the life of one 
whose life was a romance, and who with a price set 
upon his head, fled from the voluptuous court of 
Charles II, to wander among the wilds and mountain 
fastnesses of New England. 

Among the judges who gave their voices for the 
death of Charles I, was William GorTe. He had 
been a major-general in Cromwell's army, and was 
much esteemed by that great soldier. In 1660, pre- 
vious to the restoration, he embarked for Boston in 
company with Whalley another of the regicides. 
Governor Endicot received them kindly ; but fearing 
to remain in the capital, they retired on the same day 
to Cambridge. Here they remained four months, 
when (November) the kind act of indemnity for 
those concerned in the Great Rebellion arrived. 
Their names were omitted in the act, and conse- 
quently they were excluded from mercy. The go- 
vernor seems to have wished to secure the fugitives, 
but the court would not assent. Leaving Cambridge 
in February, 1661, GofFe and his companion reached 



102 



king philip's war. 



New Haven on the 7th of March, but on the follow- 
ing day the authorities despatched two zealous loyal- 
ists in search of them. Mr. Davenport, the minister, 
and a few of his people assisted them to escape. 
By the faithfulness of these men they were conducted 
to, West Rock, an eminence three hundred feet high, 
situated two and a half miles from the town. The 
traveller is still shown, on the top of this rock, the 
entrance to the cave where for some time the fugi- 
tives lived. They received their daily meals from a 
person living at the foot of the rock, initiated into 
the secret and faithful to his trust. They afterwards 
lay concealed at Milford, at Derby, and at Branford. 
In 1664 they removed to Hadley, where Colonel 
Dixwell, another of the regicides, joined them. Here 
they found an asylum under the hospitable roof of 
Mr. Wilson ; nor did the town repent of succouring 
the strangers who were thus hunted like wolves 
because they had fought for freedom. The supposed 
angel who had saved Hadley on the first of Septem- 
ber, was General GofFe. 

On the same day the Indians attacked Deerfield 
and Northfield, killing one man in the former place 
and nearly destroying the town, and ten men in the 
latter. Captain Beers, marching with thirty-six men 
to relieve Northfield, was attacked on the road and 
killed, with twenty of his men. The heads of his 
men were cut off and placed upon poles. This sight 
so intimidated one hundred men, who under Major 
Treat, were also marching to relieve the garrison, 
that they retreated in all haste to Hadley. 



king Philip's war. 



103 



This unhappy event was but the prelude to one of 
the most terrible catastrophies of the war. As Had- 
ley had been selected for a place of rendezvous for 
the whole force in the west, it became necessary to 
collect large magazines of provisions. Three thou- 
sand bushels of corn had been stacked at Deerfield, 
and Captain Lothrop, with eighty men, volunteered 
to bring it to Hadley. The offer was accepted ; the 
party proceeded to Deerfield, threshed the wheat, 
and with a train of eighteen wagons in which the 
grain and some furniture belonging to the inhabitants 
were borne, set out on his return. Mosely, who had 
arrived at Deerfield some time before, proposed to 
scour the neighbouring region while the captain's 
party were marching toward Hadley. Perhaps the 
consciousness that so famous a partisan was near 
them rendered them less vigilant than they would 
otherwise have been. 

Lothrop's party was composed of the " flower of 
the young men of Essex." They had been " all 
called out of the towns belonging to that county," 
and were blooming with the vigour and the hope of 
youth. Many of them had been pressed into the 
service, but all of them glowed with the thirst for 
fame and deeds of daring. Lothrop was quite young, 
but a man of intrepid courage, and of considerable 
skill in military operations. 

For some time they continued their march through 
a level and thickly wooded country, without ob- 
serving signs of an enemy. As such a ground was 
well adapted to an Indian attack, the party concluded, 



104 



king philip's war. 




ATTACK ON THE WAGON TKAIN. 



after they had passed it, that all danger was over. 
On reaching a small stream near Sugar Loaf Hill, 
they stopped to gather wild grapes which hung in 
clusters along the road. While the men were some- 
what scattered, the teams dragged on slowly through 
the heavy soil. This was the fatal spot chosen by 
the Indians for the slaughter of this doomed party. 
Soon as they reached the edge of the brook, the 
woods on the right blazed with the fire of hundreds 
of muskets. Many sunk without a groan. Then 
the savages slinging their muskets over their shoul- 
ders, grasped the surer hatchet, and issuing from 
their covert, sprang with yells of fiendish exultation 
toward their victims. Hurried on in the impetuosity 
of that fierce charge, the men abandoned their train, 
and half running, half fighting, gained a station on 
the hill. Here Lothrop encouraged his men and 



king philip's war. 



105 



made a stand. Then the death struggle commenced. 
Each soldier, imitating the Indians, gained the shelter 
of a tree, where he determined to sell his life as 
dearly as possible. Here, without succour, without 
hope, these brave men fought on for several hours, 
animated only by each other's voices. Lothrop fell 
in the commencement of the action, but not a man 
deserted his post. Yet their valour, desperate as it 
was, could not avert their fate. Seven hundred In- 
dians w 7 ere opposed to them ; stealthily a portion of 
this overwhelming force gained their rear, and soon 
a complete circle was formed around the small space 
occupied by the soldiers. Still they fought bravely, 
but the shouts of the enemy drew nearer. One by 
one the young men were singled out and shot, until 
but a wretched remnant remained. Then the In- 
dians, rushing from their coverts, inclosed the sur- 
vivors in their narrowed circle. There was a short 
struggle, the throes of the dying moment, and each 
sunk beneath the hatchet of his foe. But still the 
work went on. The wounded were massacred, the 
dead disfigured, and the Indians passing from one vic- 
tim to the other, began to strip and secure the scalps. 

Scarcely had this work commenced, when Mosely 
arrived with his scouting party. The firing had 
directed him to the spot, which he reached by forced 
marches. His feelings at the first sight which met 
his eye can be better imagined than described. The 
ground was strewed with the bodies of ninety of 
his countrymen (including teamsters) and the loose 
soil saturated w T ith their blood. All around were 



106 



king philips war. 



marks which showed how obstinate had been the 
death struggle. Roused to fury by the death of 
these brave youths, he instantly ordered his men to 
form. They were but a handful, but each was ani- 
mated with the spirit of his commander. The In- 
dians, confiding in their numbers, shook the scalps 
in the air, and challenged Mosely to fight. Mosely 
charged through them, killing several, and scattering 
the remainder. Soon as they reformed, he again 
charged, driving them in crowds before him, and 
killing many of their warriors. The battle continued 
from noon until evening, during which time the 
captain had only two killed and eleven wounded. 
But so considerable was the enemy's force, that not- 
withstanding his great exertions, he could not drive 
them from the field. 

The battle was not yet over. Soon after sunset, 
Major Treat, with one hundred soldiers and sixty 
Mohegan Indians, reached the scene of action. 
Their appearance was hailed by Mosely's men with 
shouts of joy, while the Indians, uttering yells of 
rage, again retired to their trees to await the conflict. 
The two colonial forces joined, and instead of recom- 
mencing a fire of musketry pushed steadily on to the 
charge. The Indians were driven in all directions, 
and unable to rally in the face of their vigorous foe, 
fled across the brook two miles to the westward. 
They were closely pursued, and probably the firing 
continued until the Indians had entirely disappeared. 
The colonists retired for the night to Deerfield. On 
the following morning the dead were buried on the 



king philip's war. 



107 



spot where they fell. This was the most diastrous 
day which New England had yet seen. The news 
of it spread gloom and horror throughout the colony, 
There was scarcely a family in Essex which did not 
lose a member, and that member its pride and hope. 
" A black and fatal day (says Dr. Mather) wherein 
there were eight persons made widows, and six and 
twenty children made fatherless, and about sixty 
persons buried in one fatal grave." In proportion as 
the colonists w T ere depressed, the Indians were en- 
couraged. They appeared before Deerfield and shook 
the bloody garments of the slain in sight of the gar- 
rison. The Springfield Indians, who had hitherto 
remained faithful, now joined Philip, admitted three 
hundred of his warriors into their fort, and plotted 
the destruction of the town. 

It was fortunate for the inhabitants of this region, 
that Treat and Mosely were in command of the 
colonial forces. These officers, though having only a 
handful of men in comparison with the enemy, 
scoured the woods in all directions, marched to the 
relief of places threatened, and sought to inspire the 
people with confidence in themselves. But for their 
conduct at Lothrop's battle ground, the Indians would 
probably have attacked Deerfield that night, in which 
case its destruction would have been inevitable. 
The other towns would have fallen before assistance 
could have arrived ; so that to these brave partisans 
is justly due the honour of having saved the western 
settlements of Massachusetts from destruction. 




SPRINGFIELD AND HATFIELD ATTACKED. 

The design of the Springfield Indians, was to en- 
ter the town by stealth, and massacre the inhabitants 
when at their daily occupations. A friendly Indian, 
named Toto, revealed the plot to some persons at 
Windsor. They immediately despatched a messen- 
ger to Springfield, but as his tale was an Indian one, 
it was not believed. The commandant, Lieutenant 
Cooper, with a confidence for which he should have 
been cashiered, declared that he would not be afraid 
to march to Springfield alone. As the Windsor men 
were less bold or less obstinate, he actually set out 
(October 5th) for the Indian fort, accompanied by 
only one man. He met the whole force of the enemy 
in march for Springfield. The Indians fired ; his 
companion fell dead, and Cooper was shot through 
the body in several places. In this situation his 
courage did not forsake him, but wheeling his horse 

(108) 



KING PHILIP'S WAR. 



101 




ESCAPE OF LIEUTENANT COOPER. 



around, he galloped toward a garrisoned house in 
which he took refuge. The savages fell with fury 
on the town. Those who had scoffed at the " tale 
bearers of Windsor," left their work in the field and 
their seats by the fireside, and rushed into the gar- 
risoned houses. The assailants spread themselves 
through the town, plundered the unfortified houses 
and set them on fire. They then mustered up their 
forces and prepared to attack the different garrisons. 
The people, destitute of a leader, hurried together 
from all quarters, and, terrified by the shouts of the 
savages, were thrown into confusion, and became in- 
capable of defending themselves. Screams of horror 
from women and children were heard on all sides, as 
the Indians, surrounding the houses, poured into them 
volleys of shot, and tossed firebrands against the doors 
and windows. 



110 



king philip's war. 



At this moment of danger, Major Treat appeared 
with his forces on the opposite side of the river. 
Treat had lately been appointed commander of all 
the Connecticut forces. Hearing of Toto's revelation, 
he marched rapidly toward Springfield, and reached 
it, as we have seen, in time to assume command. 
While part of his men collected rafts and boats to 
cross the river, the remainder kept up a spirited fire 
upon the Indians. He was soon joined by many of 
the soldiers of Hadley, and at length succeeded in 
reaching the opposite shore. A vigorous attack dis- 
persed the Indians and drove them into the woods. 
Thirty-two houses had been burned ; in one of which 
was the library of Mr. Glover, esteemed one of the 
best in the colony. 

Meanwhile Captains Mosely and Poole had been 
placed in garrison at Hatfield. About the middle of 
October, the Indians killed ten soldiers belonging to 
Mosely 's company, and on the 19th attacked the 
town. They numbered at least seven hundred, and 
the assault was made with a vigour and determina- 
tion rare in Indian warfare. As every side was as- 
sailed, the garrison was obliged to separate for its 
better defence. Mosely was posted in the centre, 
with Captain Appleton on one side, and Poole on 
the other. The Indians succeeded in burning a few 
barns and out-houses; but their repeated assaults 
were met with firmness, and repulsed with success. 
When exasperated with rage, they exposed them- 
selves with their customary imprudence, and their 
loss was proportion ably heavy. Discouraged at en- 



king Philip's war. 



Ill 



countering so resolute a resistance, where they had 
anticipated an easy conquest, they retired sullenly 
into the woods. 

This affair was of immense importance to the 
colonists. It encouraged them to face the foe boldly, 
and inspired confidence in their leaders. The Indians 
attempted no enterprise of importance throughput 
the remainder of the season. Some houses were 
burnt at Northampton, and three men killed at 
Springfield ; but the war in this quarter was for the 
season terminated. A small party of Indians re- 
mained in the woods during the winter, and occa- 
sionally committed mischief upon the villagers or 
their property; but the great body retired toward 
Narragansett. A few crossed the Connecticut and 
journeyed westward to the Hudson. The lurking 
place of Philip was not known. He is supposed to 
have been in several of the actions in this quarter ; 
but whether he remained in the Nipmuck country 
during the winter, or retired to Narragansett, is not 
known. A price having been placed upon his head, 
he always went disguised, and would never sleep 
two successive nights in the same place. Before 
winter, Captain Henchman was repulsed near Men- 
don, with the loss of two men; but both the Indians 
and the colonists seemed anxious for the suspension of 
hostilities. Captain Appleton commanded in this 
quarter. " He managed his command (says Baylies) 
with great ability and industry, doing every thing 
within his means to place the settlements in a state of 
security, and preparing his defences with great skill." 



UNION OF THE NEW ENGLAND COLONIES. 



Hitherto each of the colonies had maintained its 
share of the war at its own expense, without official 
concert with the others. The war hitherto had con- 
sequently been of a partisan character, nor is it un- 
likely that slight jealousies may have prevented one 
or the other government from doing more than was 
really necessary for its own safety. But Philip had 
shown himself no trifling enemy, and the governors 
and courts of the respective colonies began to per- 
ceive that their chance, not merely for successful 
defence, but for existence, lay only in union. 

Accordingly commissioners from the three princi- 
pal colonies assembled at Boston, September 9, 1675. 
After signing a narrative of the causes of the war 
prepared by Plymouth, they " fully concurred in the 
righteousness of the present war with the barbarous 
natives," and ordered one thousand troops to be raised 

(112) 



king philip's war. 



113 



without delay. Of these Massachusetts furnished 
more than one half. A commander-in-chief was 
appointed for each colony, and he was entitled to the 
supreme command over the united forces, whenever 
their field of operations lay within the colony by 
which he had been chosen. 

At a subsequent meeting in October, the attention 
of the commissioners was directed toward the pro- 
gress of the war. The Narragansetts being again " sus^ 
pected," it was resolved to inquire into their conduct. 
On hearing of this resolve, several of the Narra- 
gansett sachems renewed their obligations in writing, 
promising to surrender, before the first of November, 
all of Philip's men who should flee to them. Had 
this been done, large numbers of women and children, 
with many warriors, would have become prisoners. 
But the Narragansetts, actuated by compassion for 
the fugitives, and probably incensed at the manner 
in which captives were treated by the English, ne- 
glected to comply with the act. The English, in- 
censed at their obstinacy, threatened, but the Narra- 
gansetts still harboured Philip's men, offering in 
justification of their conduct various excuses, which 
had probably no foundation in truth. Various sus- 
picions magnified the true danger. It was imagined 
that all the young men of Narragansett were about 
to join Philip, and that some of them had actually 
been engaged in the fights on the Connecticut. The 
Connecticut colony, unable to await the action of the 
confederacy, raised a separate army, and fortified all 
her towns. 

8 



114 



king philip's war. 



The commissioners reassembled at Boston, on the 
2d of November. Gloom and anxiety character- 
ized their deliberations. Believing that the Narra- 
gansetts would join Philip in the spring, they could 
devise no plan to avert the threatened calamity, but 
by attacking them in their fastnesses during the 
winter. The dangers attending a winter campaign 
would be great, and should it prove unsuccessful, the 
event would be disastrous indeed. But they met 
the issue firmly. A declaration of war was made, 
in which the Narragansetts were accused of being 
" deeply accessory in the present bloody outrages of 
the bloody natives — this appearing by their harbour- 
ing the actors thereof — relieving and succouring their 
women and children, and wounded men," contrary 
to former agreements. To this charge were added 
others — killing, as was credibly reputed, the cattle 
of the colonists; seizing and keeping under guard 
"Mr. Smith's house and family;" and for having, 
when news of the disaster at Hadley arrived, " in a 
very reproachful and blasphemous manner rejoiced 
thereat," 

One thousand additional men were raised, and 
placed under command of Governor Winslow. The 
importance of the expedition in the eyes of the com- 
missioners, is shown in the care taken in its equip- 
ment. The several courts-general were recommended 
to be careful that the soldiers sent on this expedition, 
be men of strength, courage, and activity ; their 
arms well fixed and fit for service ; that their clothing 
in all respects be strong and warm, suitable for the 



king philip's war. 



115 



season ; that they have provisions in their knapsacks 
for a week's march from their rendezvous, and supply 
in a magazine appointed for a more general service. 
Provisions for two months were afterwards sent to 
the place of rendezvous. Appleton, Captain Mosely, 
and four others led the Massachusetts forces ; Major 
Bradford those from Plymouth, and Major Treat the 
Connecticut troops. At the earnest solicitation of 
Governor Winslow, Church joined the expedition as 
a volunteer. 

Smith's house was chosen as the place of rendez- 
vous. Smith was a trader who had lived so long in 
the Narragansett country, that he monopolized nearly 
all the trade with them — a branch of business which 
proved highly lucrative. He appears to have been 
well known among the Indians, but of the character 
of his dealings with them we have no record. Church 
arrived at the appointed place before the commander. 
He immediately made inquiries concerning the ene- 
my's situation. Of the main body nothing was 
known ; but he was informed that small parties had 
occasionally been seen at no great distance. Accord- 
ingly he " proposed to the Eldridges and some of the 
brisk bands, to attempt the surprising of some of the 
enemy, to make a present of to the general when he 
should arrive, which might advantage his design." 
They agreed, and the party set out. The night was 
cold, clear, and illuminated by a full moon. They pro- 
ceeded stealthily through the woods, discovered a 
small party, principally women and children, and 
charging them, secured eighteen prisoners. Church 



116 king philip's war. 

returned before daylight and presented the Indians 
to the governor who had just arrived. Two of them 
were sent " as a present" to Boston. About the same 
time, Mosely surprised thirty-six Indians, among 
whom was one named Peter. This man betrayed 
his tribe, revealed their hiding-place, and offered to 
guide the army to it. Another scouting party under 
Serjeant Bennett killed two Indians and secured four 
prisoners. This was followed by a movement of 
General Winslow with his whole army into the In- 
dian country, wdiere he killed seven Indians, cap- 
tured nine, and burnt one hundred and fifty wig- 
wams. The enemy, retaliating, killed a sergeant and 
three other men of the garrison left behind by Wins- 
low, burnt a house at Pettysquamscot, and massacred 
fifteen persons who had taken refuge in it. 

The burning of Bull's house was a serious loss to 
the army, as it had been selected by the Connecticut 
troops for their head-quarters. They arrived imme- 
diately after the disaster, and were soon joined by the 
other colonial forces. Every step had to be taken 
through snow a foot deep,, and on the 18th of Decem- 
ber, the day on which the whole army convened, a 
cold sleet chilled the air, and blinded the soldiers. 
Night came on while they were in this situation, and 
there being no place of shelter the men were obliged 
to remain in the open air all night. But they obeyed 
without murmuring, encouraging each other with 
the prospect of final success. By the officers, the 
following day had been chosen for the main attack 
upon the Narragansett fort. 



DESTRUCTION OF THE NARRAGANSETTS. 



In the course of our narrative thus far, frequent 
allusion has been made to Mr. Church. He had ac- 
cepted no commission; but his skill, bravery, and 
success in frequent skirmishes with the enemy, had 
proven how well he merited one. As he was perhaps 
the most conspicuous man at the swamp fight about 
to be described, as well as through the war, a sketch 
of his life and character will be given. 

Benjamin Church was born at Duxbury near Ply- 
mouth, in 1639. His father, Joseph Church, was 
one of the many fugitives driven from the parent 
country during that dark period of her history, who 
sought an asylum in New England. Of Church's 
early life little is known. He was of a good stature, 
his body well proportioned, and built for hardiness 
and activity. At an early age he married a Miss 
Alice Southworth, and was throughout life remark- 

(117) 



118 



king philip's war. 



able for those qualities which promote domestic hap- 
piness. Firm in his opinions, yet mild in explaining 
or enforcing them, of serene temperament, and habits 
of strict regularity, he endeared himself to a num- 
ber of- friends who frequently passed a portion of 
their time at his residence. Like most of the colon- 
ists he was strict in the performance of religious 
duties. He was among the first members of the 
church of Bristol, whose pastor was the Rev. Samuel 
Lee. The Sabbath w T as to him a day of holy rest ; 
he was constant in attendance upon the ordinances 
of the sanctuary ; devout in family worship ; punc- 
tual in reading and explaining the Bible to his house- 
hold. But his strictness was devoid of bigotry, and 
while worshipping God after the old puritan fashion, 
he denounced all persecution of others who might 
vary from that standard. A favourite doctrine of 
Church was, that providence superintends all the 
affairs of life. We have already seen how this be- 
lief animated him at Pocasset Neck ; and during the 
w r ar he ascribed his numerous escapes to the special 
interposition of God. It is true that this doctrine 
was advocated with much complacency by all the 
Puritans, but few of them could feel its efficacy in 
the hour of battle as Church did. 

Long before the commencement of hostilities, 
Church foresaw that the course pursued by the 
colonies toward the Indians would result in war. 
He denounced many of the colonial acts as aggression, 
a circumstance not calculated to increase his popu- 
larity. Accordingly when the war occurred, although 



king Philip's war. 



119 



his talents were universally acknowledged, he re- 
ceived no commission. He served, however, as a 
volunteer in the various skirmishes around Narra- 
gansett Bay, and by his deeds of daring and success, 
threw commissioned officers into the shade. Church 
perfectly understood the Indian mode of fighting, 
and adopted it on all occasions with an effect which 
astonished his superiors. Amid danger he was cool, 
prompt, and wary; in resources, either to baffle the 
foe or entrap them, exhaustless. We have already 
seen how, under the guidance of his fertile mind, 
a handful of men maintained a fight of several hours 
duration with a host of Indians, and escaped with- 
out loss. No fatigue of mind or body could disturb 
his well-formed plans, and his vigorous constitution 
defied the extremes of heat and cold. In the treat- 
ment of prisoners he was ever on the side of human- 
ity. He had courage to face the fury of a bigoted 
populace, and fortitude to endure its frown. In de- 
nouncing the base acts which from time to time con- 
signed the Indian prisoners to slavery, he lost the 
good will of government and the favour of friends ; 
yet such was his worth that the w^ar could not be 
maintained without him, and his enemies were 
obliged, however ungracefully, to implore his aid and 
offer him a commission. 

At the dawn of day (December 19) the troops 
commenced their march for the Narragansett fort. 
Confiding in the fidelity of their guide, Peter, they 
waded through the trackless snow through the coun- 
try of the old queen of Narragansett, a distance of 



120 



king philip's war. 



fifteen miles. Here they reached the great swamp 
described in the introduction, in the midst of which, 
was the whole strength of the Narragansetts. The 
order of attack was quickly formed. The Massachu- 
setts men, pioneered by Mosely and Davenport, were 
in front ; the Plymouth forces, led by Winslow in 
person, who was accompanied by Church, were in 
the centre ; and Connecticut brought up the rear. 

A description of the Narragansett swamp has already 
been given. On a small piece of upland, surrounded 
by water, and situated in the centre of the swamp, 
the Indians had erected their fort. The whole work 
covered an area of five or six acres, and was sur- 
rounded by a high palisade. This was encircled 
with a hedge almost impenetrable, on the outside of 
which was a deep ditch filled with water. The only 
pathway from the main land to the fort was over the 
body of a huge tree, on which, however, but one 
could pass at a time. On the side first attacked by 
the colonists, the trunk of a tree, five feet thick, 
formed part of the inclosure. Against this stood a 
blockhouse built of strong logs. This tree, or rather 
huge log, not being so high as the palisade and hedge, 
formed an accessible point, and toward this the Massa- 
chusetts men made their first movement. 

On reaching the bridge, the vanguard, unaware of 
the danger, commenced the passage with great alacrity 
They were led by Captain Johnson, a brave and 
skilful officer. He had not attempted the entrance, 
when a volley of musketry was poured from the log- 
house, and the captain with many of his men were 



king philip's war. 



121 



swept away with the rapidity of lightning. Undis- 
mayed by the terrible sight, Davenport rushed on, 
leaped the breastwork and entered the inclosure. 
His triumph was short. Before the shout which 
hailed his success subsided, he was pierced with 
bullets and fell dead ; his men dropped on every side, 
and the survivors, leaping back from the inclosure, 
threw themselves on their faces. Two companies, 
unaware of the slaughter among their companions, 
hurried toward the breastwork. No sooner had 
they entered the fire from the log-house, than their 
vanguard sunk down, and the remainder, unable to 
advance or face their foe, retreated in confusion. 

The soldiers had abandoned all hope of entering 
the inclosure, and became mixed together in the 
greatest confusion. In this condition they were 
joined by General Winslow. Through his exertions, 
aided by Major Appleton, order was restored, a new 
line of battle formed, and the assault renewed. They 
advanced a second time to the breastwork ; to en- 
courage them an officer shouted that the Indians were 
running ; two more companies were ordered to their 
support, and after sustaining a murderous fire from 
the enemy, they gained the breastwork in a mass. 
Here a desperate struggle ensued. The soldiers, 
maddened at the sight of their dead and dying com- 
rades, breasted the bristling rows of muskets, and 
pushed each other up the inclosure ; the Indians 
poured from the house, the hedge, the palisade, an 
uninterrupted stream of death. Discipline prevailed ; 
the savages were driven from their flank position; 

16 L 



122 



king Philip's wo. 



and after fighting inch by inch, the colonists secured 
to themselves a place of shelter in the lower part of 
the inclosure. 

During this first part of the action, Church had 
remained with the commander-in-chief ; but impatient 
of action, he repeatedly solicited him for permission 
to engage in the battle. This being at length granted, 
he placed himself at the head of thirty men, with 
whom he entered the swamp, crossed the log, and 
gained the fort. The ground was strewn with the 
bodies of the dead, among whom were six captains. 
Amid the wigwams on the east side of the fort 
was Captain Gardner, gallantly urging on his men. 
Church hurried toward him, but before they met, 
Gardner fell mortally wounded. When Church 
reached him the blood was streaming down his face. 
He stooped down, and pulling off his cap, saw that 
he had been shot through the brain. Church quickly 
observed that the ball had come from the rear, so 
that the troops while advancing to charge the camp, 
were in danger of being shot in the back. He imme- 
diately despatched a messenger to General Winslow 
to prevent the firing in that quarter, since the men 
were as much exposed to the balls of their friends 
without the fort, as to those of the Indians within. 

Church then led his company against the Indians 
in the swamp. Perceiving a " broad and bloody 
track," he pursued it for some distance, although it 
led into the recesses of the thicket, A solitary In- 
dian was perceived, who, instead of firing, clasped 
his gun to his breast, and beckoned to Mr. Church 



king philip's war. 



123 



to meet him. Church ordering his men not to fire, 
advanced toward him; but one of his company 
not hearing the command, shot the Indian dead 
Church had scarcely time to express his disappro- 
bation of the act, when a tremendous shout was 
heard in his rear. Looking round, he beheld a 
large number of Indians running from tree to tree, 
to gain advantageous positions for firing upon the 
colonists who had gained the fort. His situation was 
critical. Should the garrison fire upon the Indians, 
his small company would be in imminent danger ; 
and any attempt to communicate wdth the fort would 
expose him to almost certain destruction. Chance 
favoured him. A sergeant discovered his men, and 
made known their vicinity to the garrison. By this 
time Church observed a large body of Indians steal- 
ing toward the fort. They were almost within gun- 
shot; but his men were concealed by some brush- 
wood, behind which they lay upon the ground. The 
Indians in like manner, on reaching the log, threw 
themselves behind it, waiting for a favourable op- 
portunity to start up and fire into the fort. Church 
being behind them, had a fine opportunity of turning 
the stratagem to their destruction ; nor w T as he long 
in improving it.' Ordering his men to see that their 
pieces were loaded, he directed them to be in readi- 
ness to fire upon the Indians the moment they should 
rise to fire into the fort. Suddenly the whole body 
of savages sprang to their feet ; but before a gun 
was discharged upon the garrison, Church's whole 
party poured upon them a well-directed volley. 



124 king Philip's war. 

Fourteen warriors fell dead ; the others, panic struck 
at so unexpected a disaster, fled in every direction. 
A few actually entered the fort and sheltered them- 
selves in a hovel raised upon stilts. Church hurried 
forward, entered the fort, and ordered his men to 
overturn the hovel. An Indian pointed his gun 
through a hole and aimed at Church. Regardless of 
the danger, he again shouted to his men, when the 
Indian fired wounding him in three places. The 
entreaties of his friends that he would retire from 
the field were resisted, and he continued to exhort 
them until his wounds stiffened and he could no 
longer move. A friend supported him. The Indians 
having discharged their guns, poured upon the as- 
sailants a shower of arrows, by which several were 
wounded, including the man w T ho stood by Church. 
The soldiers were finally repulsed. 

Meanwhile the battle raged in other parts of the 
swamp. Treat's soldiers suffered severely, but ani- 
mated by their gallant leader, they passed the log 
amid a heavy fire, and at length gained the interior 
of the fort. They soon reached the other troops, 
when the united forces passed toward the enemy's 
camp. It was composed of wigwams in which were 
large quantities of clothing and provisions. The 
soldiers, eager for destruction, ran from one to another 
throwing lighted brands to set them on fire. Church 
shuddering at the prospect of the horrid scene which 
would ensue, begged them to desist. They replied 
without heeding his distress, that they had orders 
from the general. Stiff with his wounds which were 



king philip's war. 



125 



still undressed, he sought the presence of Winslow, 
and implored him that the camp might be spared. 
" He told him that the wigwams were musket proof, 
being all lined with baskets and tubs of grain and 
other provisions, sufficient to supply the whole army 
until the spring of the year, and every wounded 
man might have a good warm house to lodge in, who 
otherwise would necessarily perish with the storms 
and cold. And moreover that the army had no other 
provisions to trust unto or depend upon ; that he 
knew that the Plymouth forces had not so much as 
one biscuit left, for he had seen their last dealt out." 
Had this advice been followed, not only would the 
roasting of hundreds of Indians alive been avoided, 
but the lives of many of the wounded men who died 
of cold and hunger been prevented. But Winslow 
either secretly favoured the measure, or displayed 
little talent in enforcing his commands to prevent it. 
After conversing with a few around him, he moved 
toward the fort, designing to lead the whole army 
into it. By this time several wigwams had caught, 
and the flames were spreading rapidly. When near 
the swamp, he was met by a captain who inquired 
where he was going. "Into the fort," was the an- 
swer. The captain seized his horse, telling him that 
his life was too valuable to be risked like one of 
theirs. When Winslow replied that Church had in- 
formed him of the forts being taken, and that he 
wished to shelter his men there, the captain in a vio- 
lent manner, replied that Church lied, and that if 
the general moved another step, he would shoot his 



126 



king philip's war. 



"horse. As the commander-in-chief failed to treat 
such insolence as it deserved, a " certain doctor" was 
emboldened to oppose the cause of humanity. Among 
other things, " seeing the blood flow apace" from 
Church's wounds, he told him that if he gave such 
advice " he should bleed to death like a dog before 
they would endeavour to staunch his blood." Church 
being merely a volunteer, could prevail but little 
against the official dignities, and the cruel order was 
carried into effect. 

Imagination cannot picture the scene that followed. 
For three hours the battle had raged around the fort ; 
yet was it still unabated. The roar of musketry, 
the shouts of command, the yells of the Indians, the 
whistling of shot, mingled in a din which echoed for 
miles around. The gloom of the battle ground, shut 
out from day by the thick swamp, was heightened 
by a thick atmosphere, over which stretched a dark 
continuous sheet of cloud ; at intervals a few flakes 
of snow fell, the harbingers of a tremendous storm. 
Amid this scene the wdgwams were fired. At first 
the flames crept along gradually * then reaching the 
magazines of corn they spread from one to another, 
until the wide space was enveloped in a sea of fire. 
Then those wretched w T arriors, abandoning all hope, 
shrunk closer toward each other, and springing upon 
the enemy's pieces like wild beasts, fought hand to 
hand in the madness of revenge. The flames went 
roaring and crackling toward heaven; volumes of 
smoke rolled away on the wind, and rendered still 
gloomier the gloomy scene below, while with the 



king philip's war. 



127 



noise of battle and the roar of the conflagration, 
were mingled the screams of women and children 
roasting in the flames. Some leaped among the crack- 
ing corn and over the hedge ; they were driven back 
with the butts of muskets. Some flung their arms 
to heaven and cried for mercy; their cries were 
drowned in the uproar, and they sunk upon the 
burning mass. Old men, who scorned to feel, cursed 
the English with shouts of laughter, and sung the 
death song over the tomb of their countrymen. 
Where the battle raged, quarter was neither asked 
nor given. When a man fell he was dragged away 
that the ground might be cleared for the combatants. 
The fort was strewed with wounded men, mutilated 
limbs, and clots of blood ; and soon as one section of 
the colonists were relieved or destroyed, others pressed 
on to supply its place. 

At length the shattered remnant of the Narra- 
gansett warriors retired into a neighbouring cedar 
swamp. Here they remained during the night of in- 
tense cold which followed this battle, and many, 
perhaps most of their wounded froze to death. 
The colonists, after remaining in the fort long enough 
to ascertain that none of the enemy remained alive, 
marched for their head-quarters. 

In this battle three hundred Indian warriors were 
believed to have been killed, and seven hundred 
wounded. How many old men, women, and children, 
perished in the flames is not known. Seven hundred 
wigwams were burned, and great quantities of pro- 
visions which had been reserved for the winter's 



128 



king philip's war. 



store, were consumed. The victory was dearly pur- 
chased. Eighty of the colonists were killed, in- 
cluding some of their ablest officers, and one hundred 
and fifty wounded. Both parties fought desperately, 
and but for the defenceless condition in which many 
of the Indian warriors were, the assailants would 
probably have been defeated. 

It has been mentioned, that on taking possession 
of the fort, General Winslow adopted the extraordi- 
nary resolution of returning to his camp the same 
night. The distance was eighteen miles, and the 
snow covered the ground, so that no track was visible. 
The motives which actuated such a measure were 
stronger than the nerves of the soldiers, who suffered 
the effects of it. They reached the camp unmolested 
by the Indians. Numbers died by the way ; those of 
the wounded who survived were frozen stiff as the 
dead, and many soldiers were frost bitten. On ex- 
amination, four hundred were found to be unfit for 
duty. In this condition, and destitute of provisions, 
they awaited with gloomy forebodings the arrival of 
the supplies which had been forwarded. The ves- 
sels containing them were blocked in by the ice. Next 
day the snow was so deep as to be impassable. 
Starvation stared them in the face. Had the Indians 
known of their situation, and attacked them at this 
time, their destruction must have been certain. 

This terrible infliction completely broke the power 
of the Narragansetts. For the stroke they were 
entirely unprepared. Confiding in their treaty with 
Massachusetts, they had retired to their well fortified 



king Philip's war. 



129 



position, and prepared to pass the winter in security. 
Probably the first intimation of their danger was the 
appearance of Winslow's army; yet confident, in 
the security of their position, they beheld its approach 
with indifference. The treachery of Peter was the 
first step to their ruin ; yet even though surprised, 
they defended their camp with heroic perseverance. 
On the night succeeding the attack, the young war- 
riors were eager to attack the soldiers on their .march, 
and had not the fears of the old men prevailed over 
this advice, the results of- the expedition would most 
probably have been very different from what they 
were. While the army remained at Wickford they 
renewed their solicitations for peace, but at the same „ 
time bitterly complained of the colonists having at- 
tacked them without notice. To show the friendly 
feeling they had maintained, they showed to Winslow 
a white child, taken at Warwick, but which they 
had fed and provided for with the greatest care. The 
only terms offered them, were that they should de- 
liver all Philip's followers then among them. This 
they refused, to do ; and afterwards abandoning all 
hope of obtaining better terms, they continued to 
amuse the army until opportunity should offer to 
escape. Famine reduced them to great straits, but 
they remained true to Philip, and watched eagerly 
for an opportunity to revenge the fate of their country- 
men. 

# 



9 




PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVE NARRA.GANSETTS 

The remnant of the Narragansetts was commanded 
by Canonchet and -Punnoquin,. two powerful young 
sachems., who were inspired ,with inveterate hatred 
to the colonists. Canonchet;dr Nanuntenoo, was son 
of the celebrated Miantonomoh. and the remembrance 
of his father's fate rankled in his bosom long before the 
commencement of Philip's war. He submitted, how- 
ever, to the terms of peace imposed upon his tribe, nor 
is it probable that he would have voluntarily engaged 
in war with those whose power he well knew, but for 
the attack upon his people at their fort. After this he 
steadily resisted all tendency to peace, and watched 
continually for an opportunity of escape to Philip. 

Winslow seems to have been aware of this disposi- 
tion*. On receiving (January 12, 1676) a message 
from the Indians asking another month's delay for 

(130) 



king Philip's war. 



131 



the purpose of adjusting the terms of peace, he be- 
came so irritated at the failure of his negotiations, as 
to resolve upon an immediate recommencement of 
the war. Having sent his wounded men to Rhode 
Island, he prepared to take the field with the small 
force fit for duty. He was reinforced about this time 
by some troops sent from Boston, but the depth of 
the snow rendered his infantry almost useless, and 
the mounted men could do little more than scour the 
country, picking up stragglers, or guarding against 
attacks. Captain Prentice penetrated into the coun- 
try of Pomham, a celebrated chief, burned one hun- 
dred wigwams, and brought away a quantity of corn. 
On the 21st the captain encountered a small party of 
the enemy, which he charged, killing two and cap- 
turing nine. Two of his men, while separated from 
the rest, encountered two Indians. One of the 
troopers named Dodge, pursued one of the Indians 
with such eagerness that he left his companion far 
behind. On turning round, he perceived that the 
latter, having discharged his pistol without effect, 
had been assaulted by the other Indian and thrown 
from his horse. Dodge hastened to his assistance, 
killed the Indian, and renewing, his pursuit of the 
other, killed him also. Toward the end of Januar}^, 
Winslow put his forces in motion, and proceeded 
toward a swamp, about twenty miles from his camp, 
in which the main body of the Indians had taken 
refuge. On arriving there he found to his astonish- 
ment that the enemy had fled. While perplexed at 
being thus baffled, and uncertain of the direction 



132 



king philip's war. 



they had taken, he received intelligence that they 
had attacked the house of one Carpenter, at Warwick, 
killed two persons, and carried away two hundred 
sheep and fifty cattle. This left no room to doubt 
that they w T ere fleeing toward the Nipmuck country. 
The general ordered an immediate pursuit. The 
troops hurried on over bad roads, and through gloomy 
forests, until they overtook the tardy foe near some 
dense swamps. They attacked the rear parties with 
vigour, scattering their warriors in every direction, 
and killing or capturing seventy. The main body 
of the Indians, encumbered with baggage and plun- 
der, declined a battle, and with much skill retired 
into the swamps, whence all attempts to dislodge 
them failed. 

An exploit of Church during the pursuit is worthy 
of notice. He had been removed with the others 
wounded on the 19th of December to the Narra- 
gansett fort, but partially recovering, he again joined 
the army, and was persuaded by General Winslow 
to accompany him in pursuit of the Narragansetts. 
On the route they reached an Indian town, situated 
on a small island, which was surrounded by a swamp. 
The water of the swamp was frozen, which pre- 
vented the soldiers from charging the wigwams. 
A spirited fire of musketry commenced, under cover 
of which the troops began to cross the ice. The 
Indians defended themselves until the assailants 
reached the island, when they broke and fled. A 
Mohegan, friendly to the colonists, joined in the pur- 
suit, and capturing one of the enemy who had been 



king philip's war. 



133 



wounded in the leg, brought him to Winslow. The 
general " examined" him, but failed to elicit the de- 
sired information concerning the designs of his coun- 
trymen. The prisoner was threatened ; he declared 
that he had revealed all he knew. Many standing 
around demanded that he should be tortured. Church 
begged that the disgraceful advice might not be fol- 
lowed. It was finally rejected by the general, and 
the army recommenced its march. But as the In- 
dian's wound prevented him from keeping pace with 
the troops, it was determined "that he should be 
knocked on the head." To enjoy the scene of his 
death as much as possible, the troops halted, a great 
fire was kindled, and the Mohegan who had cap- 
tured him was appointed executioner. Church, 
"taking no delight in the sport," obtained permission 
to withdraw. The Mohegan, elated with the honour 
conferred upon him, advanced toward his victim 
flourishing his tomahawk, and evincing, by distortions 
of limb and feature, the extremity of his satisfaction. 
Suddenly he aimed a tremendous blow at the pri- 
soner's head, but the latter skilfully dodged it, and 
the hatchet flying from the Mohegan's hand, "had 
liked to have done execution where it was not de- 
signed." Seizing the favourable moment, the Indian 
broke from those who held him, and ran for his life. 
Taking the same direction as Church had done, he 
unexpectedly ran directly upon him. Church grap- 
pled with him ; a short but furious scuffle ensued ; but 
the Indian being destitute of clothing, slipped from his 
adversary's grasp, and again ran. Church pursued ; 



134 



king philip's wak. 



the Indian stumbled and fell; and the intrepid vo- 
lunteer again seized him. They fought and wrestled 
until the Indian slipped through Church's hands, 
and set out upon his third race. Church was close 
behind him, "grasping occasionally at his hair," 
which was all the hold could be taken of him." 
They soon reached a wide surface of ice, which 
being in some places hollow, caused a rumbling noise, 
a circumstance which induced Church to hope that 
some of his friends hearing it, would come to his re- 
lief. Unfortunately for the Indian, it began to grow 
dark, and while running at full speed, he came 
abreast a fallen tree of great thickness ; why he did 
not overleap it is unknown ; but having probably 
become intimidated, he stopped suddenly and cried 
aloud for assistance. Church was soon upon him ; 
the Indian seized him by the hair, and by twisting it 
round, endeavoured to break his neck. Church also 
laid hold of his adversary's hair with both hands, i 
repaying twist for twist. While in this attitude^^ 
hanging by each other's hair, the volunteer contrived 
to butt the Indian vigorously with his head in the 
face. 

While this sharp scuffle was going on, the ice was 
heard cracking at a distance, and soon after some 
person ran toward them. The darkness prevented 
the new comer being seen, so that the two combatants 
were obliged to remain in suspense. The stranger 
reached them, and without speaking a word, began to 
feel first Church and then the Indian. Amid the 
same ominous silence, he raised his hatchet, and with 



king philip's war. 



135 



one blow sunk it in the bead of the unfortunate 
savage. It was tbe Mohegan who bad acted as exe- 
cutioner. Overjoyed at having gratified bis cruelty, 
he hugged Church again and again, thanked him for 
having caught his prisoner, and conducted him in 
triumph to the camp. 

This pursuit of the Narragansetts ended in nothing. 
The Indians, led by Canonicus, Canonchet, and Punno- 
quin, reached the Wachuset hills in safety, where 
they united with the Nipmucks and other tribes. 
The army remained near Brookfleld until their forage 
and provisions were exhausted, when they returned 
to Boston, leaving the feeble settlements of the Nip- 
muck country a prey to the infuriated savages. 



DESTRUCTION OF LANCASTER. 



The central parts of Massachusetts had again 
become the theatre of the war. One of the first 
places attacked by the Indians after they had been 
joined by the Narragan setts, was Lancaster. Lan- 
caster is a flourishing town situated on the Nashua 
River, directly east of Wachuset Mountain. Its 
settlement dates as far back as 1643. The popula- 
tion increased rapidly, and enjoyed profound peace 
until the commencement of Philip's war. The town 
was noted for the quiet and industrious habits of its 
people, for its healthful atmosphere, and especially 
for the beauty of the surrounding scenery. Situated 
on gently rising ground between the north and south 
branches of the river which united just below the 
town, it commanded a fine view of the neighbouring 
region, and was diversified with a pleasing variety of 

(136) 




THE NIPMUCK AND LANCASTER INDIANS PLANNING TIIEIH ATTACK ON LANCASTER. 



138 



king philip's war. 



139 



hill, meadow, and dell. The natural richness of the 
soil is increased by the annual overflow of the river, 
so that the farmer's labour was repaid with early and 
abundant crops. In 1675 the number of families in 
the town was more than fifty. 

Until the commencement of the war, the Indians 
had lived on terms of friendship with the settlers, 
entering their houses freely, and assisting them in 
every kind of labour. Unfortunately no care was 
taken by the authorities to maintain this disposition ; 
the Indians at the beginning of hostilities were sus- 
pected, and the fate of the Narragansetts filled them 
with horror and fear lest their turn should be next. 
When the fugitives of that tribe escaped to Nipmuck, 
the Lancaster Indians gladly joined them. From 
their accurate knowledge of the town, they were 
able to plan an attack which almost insured its de- 
struction, and the time chosen for the attempt, was 
when Mr. Rowland son, the minister, and several 
other townsmen were at Boston. 

At sunrise on the 10th of February, 1676, fifteen 
hundred Indians led by Sagamore Sam, made a furious 
assault upon the town. The inhabitants, some of 
whom had just risen, were alarmed by the reports of 
musketry, the shouts of the savages, and the screams 
of those who from their position sustained the first 
attack. In the first moments of uproar and confusion 
no resistance was thought of. Five were taken in 
one house, three of whom were murdered, and the 
remainder taken captive. Two were killed and 
mangled in the streets. Houses were fired in every 



140 



king philip's war. 



direction, and soon the flames, mounting up in wide 
sheets, added new horrors to the scene of death. 
The Indians running from house to house, captured 
or killed all who attempted to escape, and mustering 
their forces, prepared with loud shouts to assault the 
garrisoned houses. 

Dismayed by the fate of their companions, the 
families not yet attacked left their houses, and sought 
refuge in the house of Mr. Rowlandson, which was 
fortified. Several were killed before reaching it; and 
a party of Indians having shot the owner of a barn, 
mounted its roof, whence they had a favourable op- 
portunity for annoying the garrison. Forty-two per- 
sons of every age and both sexes had sought refuge 
there ; and the courage of manhood was daunted by 
the cries and groans which arose from the crowded 
mass. But a portion prepared for defence, and some 
who were destitute of guns, encouraged the others, 
loaded their arms, or stilled the noise of the women 
and children. 

Meanwhile the assailants had disposed themselves 
for the attack. The house stood upon the edge of the 
hill on which the greater part of the town is built. 
Some of the Indians were stationed behind the brow 
of the hill, some on the barn, and others behind 
fences, trees, mounds, and other elevations. From 
these secure positions, they poured upon the house a 
shower of musketry, so that the bullets seemed to 
fly like hail. As the battle grew warmer they ven- 
tured nearer, shouting the war-whoop, and trying to 
drive the garrison from the house. Several of the 



king philip's war. 



143 



men within had already been w T ounded, but the sur- 
vivors still encouraging each other, fought on steadily 
for more than an hour. Infuriated by this resistance, 
the savages ran from their hiding-places and tossed 
bundles of burning straw, flax, and hemp, toward 
the house. After many trials the building caught. 
One of the men ran out and extinguished the flames ; 
but the attempt was renewed ; the rapid progress of 
the fire could not be arrested, and the flames were 
soon crackling and tossing over the heads of the de- 
voted garrison. Every avenue of escape was closed. 
The savages danced in circles round the burning 
building, and mocked the cries of the sufferers. No 
help appeared in any quarter ; some of the crowded 
mass were already scorched, and the horrid alterna- 
tive alone remained of dying in the flames or sur- 
rendering to the Indians. " Some in our house (says 
Mrs. Rowlandson) were fighting for their lives, while 
others were wallowing in their blood, the house being 
on fire over our heads, and the bloody savages were 
standing ready to bury the tomahawk in our heads if 
we stirred out. Now w r e could hear mothers and 
children crying out, 'Lord what shall we do?' I 
took my children and one of my sisters hers to go 
out and leave the house ; but as soon as we made 
our appearance at the door, the Indians fired so fast, 
that the bullets rattled against the house as if one 
had taken, a handful of stones and thrown them, so 
that we were forced to give back." The garrison 
now fled from the burning mass. The Indians sur- 



144 



king Philip's war. 



rounded them, armed with guns, darts, and hatchets, 
and furious by the obstinate resistance, began to 
butcher the wounded and strip the dead. Mrs. Row- 
landson was shot in the side, and had her child 
killed in her arms. Another wounded child was 
knocked in the head. " My eldest sister (says Mrs. 
Rowlandson) being yet in the house, seeing Indians 
hauling mothers one way, and children another, and 
some wallowing in their blood, and being told that 
her son "William was dead, and that I was wounded, 
she exclaimed : ' Lord let me die with them !' No 
sooner had she said this, than she was struck with a 
bullet, and fell down dead over the threshold. The 
Indians now laid hold on us, pulling me one way, 
and the children another, saying : 1 Come go along 
with us.' I told them that they would kill me. 
They said that if I was willing to go along with them 
they would not hurt me." 

The Indians, however, appear to have been more 
desirous of securing prisoners than of massacring 
those who surrendered. According to authority 
already quoted, but twelve were killed ; one escaped, 
and the remainder were carried away. Among the 
latter was Mrs. Rowlandson, who afterwards wrote an 
interesting account of her captivity. The Indians, 
notwithstanding their indignation at the massacre of 
their countrymen in the Narragansett fort, treated 
the prisoners kindly. All the cattle in the vicinity 
were carried away or destroyed; and the fences, 
barns, store-houses, and other property of the people 



king philip's war. 



145 



were burned. At least one half of the houses shared 
in the conflagration, so that more than four years 
elapsed before Lancaster recovered from the terrible 
blow inflicted that day. 




10 



DEFENCE OF NORTHAMPTON. 



Two days previous to the attack on Deerfield the 
commissioners of the United Colonies again met at Bos- 
ton. The unexpected escape of the remnant of the 
Narragansetts, and the return of the troops from the 
seat of war, filled them with apprehensions. It was 
resolved to fortify all the frontier towns; to pursue 
the enemy by the joint forces of the colonies, and to 
add six hundred men to the forces already in the 
field. The aid of the Pequots or Mohegans was 
also solicited. The soldiers were to be " either dra- 
goons or troopers, well fitted with long fire-arms, and 
one man for every ten horses to take care of them." 
Winslow's health being bad, he asked permission to 
resign, which was granted, and it was ordered, "that ' 
according to a former order, the commander-in-chief 
of the forces of the colony where the seat of war 
shall happen to be, shall be the chief over the whole." 

(146) 



king philip's war. 147 

In accordance with these regulations, Major Sa- 
vage, with a considerable force, was ordered to the 
western frontier early in March. On the way he 
was joined by some Connecticut troops, and marched 
to the Wachusett mountains. Here all was desolate ; 
the Indians had deserted their once favourite haunt, 
and neither man nor beast was to be seen. Entering 
the neighbouring woods, he explored them to a con- 
siderable distance, but without finding any of the 
enemy. While perplexed as to the course he should 
pursue, he was suddenly attacked by a party of sa- 
vages, who came upon him so silently, that he had 
scarcely time to make arrangements for defence. 
Fortunately the Indians were few in number; yet 
they succeeded in killing one soldier and wounding 
the chaplain of the Connecticut forces. Shortly after 
this affair the major encountered another party. A 
fight ensued, in which he killed and captured sixteen 
of the enemy, but was unable to discover the main 
body. Abandoning therefore the search in the woods, 
he marched rapidly for the Connecticut, and reached 
the settlement on that river in time to save North- 
ampton from the fate of Deerfield. 

This place had been chosen by the western In- 
dians as their next point of attack ; and its isolated 
situation, and small number of inhabitants, seemed 
to insure its destruction. Built upon a gently rising 
slope about one mile west of the Connecticut river, 
the village from its settlement, in 1654, had enjoyed 
all the advantages which a healthful climate, a fer- 
tile soil, and beautiful scenery, usually confer upon 



148 



KING PHILIP *S WAR. 



a new colony. The meadows which stretch along 
the foot of the hill being some of the best land in 
New England, were early brought under a high state 
of cultivation. ** The village although very irregularly 
laid out, is one of the most beautiful and best built 
in New England. Situated in the delightful valley 
of the Connecticut, surrounded with beautiful and 
variegated prospects on every side, with the magnifi- 
cent front of Mount Holyoke rising to the height of 
eight hundred and thirty feet on the opposite side of 
the river ; the scenery of this place presents a speci- 
men of the sublime and beautiful." 

The growth of the town was greatly favoured by 
the friendship of the Indians. The neighbouring 
tribes vied with each other in assisting the settlers, 
and the latter permitted their new friends to associate 
freely with them, interchange presents, and to hunt 
and fish in any part of the adjoining territory. In 
1664, the Indians requested leave to build a fort 
within the town. Leave was granted on certain con- 
ditions — " that they should not work or game within 
the town on the Sabbath, nor powwow here or any 
W T here else ; they should not get liquor or cider or 
get drunk, nor admit Indians from without the town, 
nor break down fences &c. ? ' The Indians accepted 
the terms, and built their fort about thirty rods from 
the most populous street. The hunting-grounds of 
each race were free to the other, and so cordial was 
this friendship, that not even a traditionary story 
exists of any quarrel between the Indians and the 
people of Northampton previous to Philip's war. 



king philip's war. 



149 



The long repose was followed by a period of terrible 
activity, and both parties filled with suspicion rather 
than hatred, prepared, the one for attack, the other 
for defence. 

Few particulars of the attack upon Northampton 
have been preserved. Major Savage crossed the 
Connecticut, and reached the village a very short 
time before the assault commenced. The assailants 
were a portion of those who had burned Deerfield. 
After their success against that town th-ey had retired 
through Massachusetts, joined Philip, and crossed 
the Connecticut. Previous to marching: against 
Northampton, they spent some time in boiling ground- 
nuts and parching corn, which were to serve as their 
provisions for the expedition. 

The object of the Indians, was as usual, to sur- 
prise the village. Their approach appears to have 
been unknown, until they had made a furious at- 
tack upon the more remote houses. Four men and 
two women were killed while fleeing toward the vil- 
lage, and several dwelling-houses set on fire. Four 
or five barns containing large quantities of grain 
were likewise consumed. The villagers fled toward 
the garrison, and the Indians, sure of victory, pur- 
sued with such haste, that they entered the palisades 
which surrounded the fort. When too late to correct 
the fatal error, they found themselves within full 
range of the guns of the garrison. Savage lost no 
time in opening upon them. The fire of the soldiers 
told with terrible effect, while the Indians, completely 
surprised, crowded into a small space, and overcome 



150 



KING PHILIP ? S W I R. 




ATTACK OJT XORTHAMPTOJf. 



with impotent rage, stood for a moment stupified. 
At that moment the major charged. The Indians 
turned and fled in confusion, crowding together and 
falling over each other to reach the palisades. Many 
of the villagers who had by this time seized their 
arms, fired upon the retreating crowd, so that the 
savages, abandoning all hope of success, retired pre- 
cipitately into the woods. Their loss in killed and 
wounded was considerable. 

This alfair did not discourage the Indians. A 
portion of Springfield called Longmeadow, was sur- 
prised while the inhabitants were repairing to public 



king philip's war. 



151 



worship, and two young women wounded. Parties 
of Indians were sometimes seen gliding through the 
woods, or running in the distance along hedges and 
mounds of earth. All the frontier settlements were 
in alarm. Families abandoned their homes and their 
only means of support, and fled toward the east. 
Those less fearful retired to the garrisoned houses 
along the Connecticut, while Major Savage with his 
company marched to the lower part of the colony, 
where it was reported that the Indians were again 
committing outrages. 




THE FUGITIVES FROM LONG MEADOW. 



BURNING OF MEDFIELD. 



While the settlements along the Connecticut were 
exposed to the ravages of one party of the enemy, 
another force pursuing a south-eastern course from 
the Wachusett mountains, proceeded to lay waste the 
towns of the Plymouth colony. They made their 
first assault upon Medfield, a small town on the 
Charles river, twenty two miles south-west from 
Boston. 

The inhabitants were not unprepared for such an 
event. Alarmed by the fate of Lancaster, they had 
applied to the government for aid, and received it. 
More than two hundred soldiers entered the town as 
a garrison, and had this force been properly disposed, 
the attack of the Indians would have been completely 
foiled. But with rare ignorance of military arrange- 
ments, the officers billeted their men upon the vari- 

(152) 



KING P HILIP'S WAR. 



153 



ous houses of the town, many of which were widely 
asunder. Thus separated, not only was their effi- 
ciency broken, but they were liable to be attacked 
and massacred in detail. 

On the Sabbath before the assault, Indians were 
seen on Mounts Nebo and Noonhill, as the congrega- 
tion were returning from Church. The pastor, Mr. 
Wilson, foreseeing the attack, warned his people to 
vigilance. This ought to have convinced the soldiers, 
that their only chance of safety was in a concentra- 
tion of their whole force, but no effort was made to 
effect it. On Sunday night, three hundred Indians 
stealthily approached the town, and as neither scout 
nor sentinel had been appointed, they were able to do 
so in perfect security. Entering the different streets, 
they concealed themselves in every quarter, behind 
bushes, fences, barns, and wood piles, and in this 
situation awaited the dawn of day. Beside their 
fire-arms, they had with them various kinds of com- 
bustibles, which could be lighted instantly and ap- 
plied to the houses. The appearance of twilight 
(February 21) was the signal of attack. Almost in 
the same moment, fifty houses were in a blaze. The 
inhabitants, just aroused from sleep, rushed in the 
first impulse of terror and bewilderment to the doors. 
The wild war-whoop and a volley of musketry ap- 
prised them of the nature of their danger. Some 
were shot in their doors, and fell headlong to the 
ground ; some were seized by the lurking enemy as 
they fled across the fields ; a few who attempted re- 
sistance were tomahawked; one, unable to escape 



154 king Philip's war. 

from his burning house, perished miserably. Mo- 
thers, clasping their little ones to their bosoms, ran 
screaming toward the garrisoned houses, while showers 
of bullets whistled round them. Some escaped, some 
were killed, others were captured. As the morning 
advanced, the affrighted fugitives could be seen in 
every direction, running from place to place for 
shelter, wringing their hands, or searching vainly for 
a child, a wife, or a friend. The scene was dread- 
ful beyond description. All the houses in the western 
and south-western part of the town were in flames ; 
the cattle, being tied in the barns and out-houses, were 
unable to escape, and in the intervals of action, their 
screams of agony and fear arose clear above the roar- 
ing of the flames. The Indians, elated by their 
success, were combining their forces, and advanced 
with furious cries to assault the garrisoned houses. 

During the first part of the engagement the sol- 
diers were doing nothing. But aroused by the in- 
creasing tumult, each small garrison made prepara- 
tions for defence, and one Lieutenant Adams, opened 
the door of a house in which he and some other 
officers were, to make observations. He was instantly 
killed. Dismayed at the sight, Captain Jacob acci- 
dentally discharged his gun, the ball of which, pass- 
ing upward, killed Mrs. Adams, the lieutenant's 
lady, who slept in the room above, and who had not 
yet risen. The soldiers now prepared for defence; 
but as no orders could be communicated from one 
garrison to another, each had to fight as best it could, 
ignorant of the progress of the Indians in other 



king philip's war. 



155 



places. Fortunately for the town, some of the people 
had by this time seized their arms, and were gallantly 
defending their dwellings. This encouraged the 
garrisons; the firing soon became general, and the 
Indians, still grasping their burning brands, were 
kept at bay. The garrisons became more active as 
the battle increased. Among the means of defence 
brought from Boston was a piece of ordnance, which 
amid the confusion of the first assault had been for- 
gotten. It was now wheeled forward and discharged 
in rapid succession, and though the discharges were 
at random, they had the desired effect of intimidating 
the Indians. 

In this well planned attack, the Indians killed more 
than twenty persons before they encountered oppo- 
sition. Fifty houses and two mills were destroyed, 
and the whole amount of damage was estimated at 
two thousand pounds. The garrisons and best build- 
ings escaped. Had the Indians attacked the latter 
places first, the whole town would probably have 
been destroyed. The loss of the assailants was not 
ascertained, but it appears to have been very small. 

Alarmed by the discharge of cannon, the Indians 
retreated to the south-west part of the town, and 
crossed a small bridge thrown over a branch of the 
Charles. To cut off pursuit they burned it to the 
water. On a post of the bridge which escaped the 
fire, they placed a small piece of paper, on which 
was a declaration, that having been provoked to 
"wrath and anger," they were willing to maintain 
the war for twenty-one years, for having nothing to 



156 



king philip's war. 



lose but their lives, they could at least derive satis- 
faction from destroying houses and cattle. This 
most singular declaration, together with the foresight 
displayed in destroying the bridge, must strike the 
most casual observer as rare acts for Indians to per- 
form, and might perhaps excite suspicion that some 
fugitive white man, either from the colonies or from 
Canada, may have been one of the party which as- 
saulted Medfield. 

The Indians, on leaving the town, retired to the 
nearest . hill, where they indulged in a dance and 
feast. The revel was kept up for several hours in 
full view of the town ; but as the bridge had been 
destroyed, no pursuit could be attempted. After in- 
sulting the misfortunes of Medfield by dancing and 
singing, they continued their march toward other 
settlements of Plymouth. 

According to one account, Philip had been seen, 
during this battle, " riding upon a black horse, leaping 
over fences, and exulting in the havoc he was making.' , 
No proof of this statement is known to exist, and 
probability is strongly against it. To an Indian chief, 
during the surpr'isal of a village before sunrise, a 
horse conspicuous from colour, or any other quality, 
would be a most useless companion ; but even had 
Philip been foolish enough to appear in battle mounted, 
the philosophy of leaping over fences merely to evince 
his joy, would appear doubtful. Philip, we imagine, 
when he conducted an attack in person, performed 
other deeds than the mere display of his horseman- 
ship. Besides, as has been remarked in a previous 



king philip ? s war. 



157 



chapter, Philip took every care to conceal his person, 
and there was a necessity that he should do so. His 
head was forfeited ; spies and traitors were every 
where in pursuit of him ; his name was pronounced 
with curses by those who had never cursed before ; 
clergymen denounced him as a fiend of hell, and 
prayed from the sacred desk that the bullet might 
be directed to his heart ; in every battle the soldiers 
tried to distinguish him, that one more fortunate than 
his fellows, might rid the country of a monster, and 
secure the twenty pounds for his head. Sometimes 
he wandered among marshy swamps, solitary and 
destitute of hope. He never slept twice in succession 
on the same spot. He lurked in the woods, among 
the hills and in waste places, where the colonists had 
never been. Yet no one except a friend ever re- 
cognized him, either in action or in the wilderness. 
If these be facts, the story of his appearance at Med- 
field is not probable, and the same remark applies to 
similar stories which after the war were circulated 
concerning his person, and which historians of credit 
have admitted into their works. 

The Indians followed up this assault with alarm- 
ing intrepidity. Towns and houses fell in quick 
succession, often before the inhabitants knew that an 
enemy was near them. On the 25th of February, 
Weymouth, eleven miles from Boston, was partly 
burned. March 17, Warwick, in Rhode Island, was 
destroyed. A still bolder action had been committed 
on the 12th of that month at Plymouth. On Satur- 
day (March 11) an Indian, named Keweenam, en 



158 



king Philip's war. 



tered the house of Mr. Clark, which was garrisoned, 
and under pretence of friendship, remained long 
enough to observe the most favourable point for an 
attack. Then repairing to Philip's great chief, Toto- 
son, he acquainted him with the plan of the house, 
and recommended the next day (Sunday) for the 
attack. Totoson approved the plan, and collecting 
ten warriors, marched that night for Plymouth. 
Secreting themselves in the neighbourhood, they re- 
mained quiet until the inhabitants assembled next 
morning for worship. Then rushing upon the garri- 
son, they killed all whom they met, including Clark's 
wife and children, burned the house, and retired 
quickly into the woods. Eleven persons were massa- 
cred in this affair, and the Indians carried away 
eight muskets, thirty pounds of powder, one hundred 
and fifty pounds in money, and a quantity of lead 
for bullets. After the war, Keweenam, and three 
others, were captured and brought to trial for "the 
murder of Clark's garrison." As the defendants had 
no counsel, the trial w r as short, and the sentence 
explicit. Keweenam was beheaded, and probably 
the ominous silence as to the fate of his companions, 
alone prevents us from adding that they shared his 
fate. 




BATTLE OF ATTLEBOROUGH GORE. 

The Plymouth government had expected that after 
the destruction of the Narragansetts, the Indians 
would confine their depredations to the more distant 
parts of the province. On the contrary it was brought 
to the doors of the capital, and the savages had in- 
dulged their revenge by entering garrisoned houses 
in daylight, and carrying away both booty and pri- 
soners. Alarmed at these "unexpected incursions, 
the colony resolved to despatch a special force against 
those parties of the enemy who were believed to be 
lurking in the vicinity. 

Accordingly fifty colonists, and twenty friendly 
Indians from Cape Cod, were placed under the com- 
mand of Captain Michael Pierce of Scituate, who 
was ordered to march immediately against the enemy. 
Pierce was a man of great bravery, cool in danger, 

(159) 

i 

I ■ dp 



160 



king philip's war. 



prompt in action, but perhaps not sufficiently cau- 
tious to conduct an expedition against Indians. He 
was popular w T ith government, and had received 
several marks of its esteem. In 1673, when war 
was expected with the Dutch of New York, he had 
been appointed ensign to one of the companies, and 
on the approach of war with Philip, he w T as strongly 
recommended to the court as a proper person to be 
invested with command. On the present occasion 
he obeyed the call of his superiors with alacrity, and 
his force was soon in full march toward the west. 
A considerable number, both of colonists and Indians, 
joined him in the war, so that he pushed forward ra- 
pidly, in full confidence of meeting and destroying 
the enemy. 

His march was speedily known to the Indians. 
Some of Canonchet's warriors were then in the 
neighbourhood, and they resolved to ensnare the 
colonists in such a manner, that their destruction 
would be inevitable. Spies stole quietly through the 
w T oods, keeping up with Pierce's march, and watch- 
ing all his movements. Pierce soon became aware 
of the presence of the enemy, but having no means 
of ascertaining their real force, and confident in his 
own strength, he marched on resolving to give battle 
at all hazards. 

On Sunday, March 26, the captain arrived at a 
crossing place on the Pawtucket river, not far from 
the falls. Adjacent to this spot was a pass since 
known as Attleborough Gore. This was the spot 
chosen by the Indians for their attack. Three hun- 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



161 



dred warriors, led by distinguished chieftains, lay 
among the rocks and thickets on both sides of the 
road, where it wound upwards from the opposite 
bank of the river. The mere appearance of this de- 
file would have excited strong suspicion in the mind 
of a wary officer, and these must have been confirmed 
into certainty of danger, by the appearance of a few 
Indians on the opposite bank, retreating up the pass. 
"A small number of the enemy (says Mather) were 
seen, who in desperate subtlety ran away from them, 
and they went limping to make the English believe 
they were lame." The stratagem succeeded. Pierce 
immediately crossed the river and commenced a 
pursuit. 

He had not gone more than a few steps, when the 
enemy, abandoning the usual Indian mode of war- 
fare, rushed from their hiding-places, and " poured 
down upon him like an avalanche." When too late, 
the devoted party perceived the fatal snare. They 
were thrown into confusion and dismay at the fierce 
charge of the enemy and their hideous shouts. Pierce 
maintained his intrepid bearing. His voice and ac- 
tions restored order, and he commanded an immediate 
retreat to the river. At the same time a messenger 
was despatched for aid to Providence, seven miles 
distant. On reaching the river, the little party be- 
held a terrible sight. A large number of the enemy 
had seized the pass on the opposite side, thus cutting 
off all retreat. The situation of the colonists was now 
fearful. Before, behind, and on each side, they were 
surrounded by a cruel foe who would give no quarter. 

11 



162 



king philip's war. 



In this extremity, Pierce did all that bravery could 
do to maintain the battle until the expected succour 
should arrive. He drew up his men on the margin 
of the river in two lines, placing them back to back, 
and encouraging them to a firm resistance. Then 
the fierce struggle began. All around the solitary 
pass blazed with musketry, and echoed with the 
shouts of the combatants and the shrieks of the 
dying. Placed between two fires, the colonists were 
mowed down with fearful rapidity ; but the wounded 
crawling upon their knees, continued to load and 
discharge their pieces at the enemy. As the battle 
grew hotter, and the lines became severed and broken, 
they looked anxiously for the relief which they 
imagined was hurrying from Providence. Pierce 
still encouraged them against the dreadful odds, de- 
claring that their friends must soon arrive. But hope 
was succeeded by disappointment, and that by despair. 
Hardened by the thought that escape was impossible, 
they flung aside their coats, and baring their arms, 
plied sternly and silently the work of death. None 
gave quarter nor asked for it. The Indians came 
more and more near. Their crowded ranks were 
thinned by the rapid fire of the colonists ; but every 
chasm as soon as made was filled by fresh hordes 
from the thickets, so that the heroic defence of Pierce 
and his men only served to defer for a few hours the 
period of slaughter. Pierce was shot in the thigh 
and fell helpless to the ground. A friendly Indian 
named Amos, heedless of his own danger, stood be- 
side him, loaded the captain's musket, and discharged 



king philip's war. 163 - 

it repeatedly at the enemy. Pierce entreated him to 
save himself, but he remained faithful at his post, 
until convinced that his efforts to prevent the cap- 
tain's death were useless. He escaped by a singular 
stratagem. Observing that the hostile Indians were 
painted black, he drew out a pouch of blacking, 
rubbed his face with it, and joined them. The sa- 
vages were deceived, and Amos subsequently found 
an opportunity to escape. 

The action was now drawing to a close. With 
desperate valour had the colonists fought, until one 
hundred and forty of their assailants are supposed to 
have fallen. Not one of the Plymouth men escaped, 
beside whom eight of the friendly Indians were 
killed. 

Several of the Cape Indians escaped by employing 
stratagem. One of them being pursued by a hostile 
Indian, threw himself behind the roots of a large 
tree which had been torn up by the wind. The 
earth still adhering to the roots afforded him shelter. 
The savage posted himself on the other side to watch 
for his appearing ; but the Cape Indian, boring a hole 
through the earth of his breast- work, inserted his 
gun into it, and shot him. 

Another Cape Indian being closely pursued, shel- 
tered himself behind a large rock. His pursuer 
stopped on the other side, waiting for the first move- 
ment of the friendly Indian. The latter, aware that 
escape was impossible, and that he merely prolonged 
his fate by staying there, devised a plan to entrap his 
foe. Placing his cap on his gun, he raised it gently 



1 



164 



king philip's war. 



toward the top of the rock. The savage instantly 
fired, when the other, rushing from the hiding-place, 
despatched him before he could reload. 

Thus the gallant Pierce and his party were massa- 
cred by a barbarous foe. Had his message to Provi- 
dence been successful, the probability is that he 
would have escaped ; but whether the messenger 
failed to perform his mission, or the authorities of the 
town refused to afford aid, was never ascertained. 
The inhabitants of Rehoboth, hearing of the attack, 
mustered and marched to the spot. But w r hen they 
arrived the battle was over. The Indians had dis- 
appeared ; a fearful silence brooded over the spot ; 
and on the river bank where they fell, lay in heaps 
the bodies of their countrymen, scalped and mangled. 
With heavy hearts they performed the last sad rites 
of man to man, and the men who had fought and 
fallen with Pierce, found a grave beneath the soil 
which was dyed with their life blood. 

This calamity was the greatest which befell the 
Plymouth colony during the war. The number of 
the slain equalled one-third of the regular force, and 
the circumstances under which they w r ere attacked, 
convinced the authorities that the danger which sur- 
rounded them was far greater than they had supposed 
it to be. 



DESTRUCTION OF SEEKONK AND PROVIDENCE — INDIAN 
COURTESIES TO ROGER WILLIAMS. 



While news of the disaster on the Pawtucket 
spread alarm among the people, the Indians prepared 
to follow up their success with vigour. The party 
concerned in Pierce's fight were on their march to 
Plymouth at the time they encountered him. Success 
delayed their progress but a short time. On the 28th 
of March, two days after the action at the pass, they 
appeared before Rehoboth. That part of the town 
now called Seekonk, is situated on the east bank of 
Providence river which separates it from Rhode 
Island. This was the part chosen by the Indians for 
their attack. The town was built in the shape of a 
semi-circle, and afforded excellent opportunities of 
surprise to a wary foe. 

According to tradition, the Indians entered See- 

(165) 



166 king philip's war. 




ATTACK 0>' SEEKDXK. 



konk early in the evening. Amid profound silence 
they spread themselves in different parts of the town, 
and, at a preconcerted signal, fired the houses and 
barns. The whole settlement was soon in flames, 
but the Indians appear to have made few T efforts to 
kill the inhabitants. Probably their force w T as too 
small to justify their remaining in the neighbourhood. 
Forty houses and thirty barns were destroyed. The 
garrisoned house was not molested, and another build- 
ing on the south end of the common was preserved, 
by being surrounded by black sticks, w 7 hich gave it at 
a distance the appearance of being strongly guarded. 
Only one man was killed. He was a native of Ire- 
land, remarkable for eccentricity and superstition. 
On the approach of the Indians, he refused to join 
the garrison, but remained in his own house with his 
Bible in his hand, believing that while he continued 
to read it nothing could harm him. He was shot 
through the window. 



king Philip's war. 



167 



An incident connected with this affair is worthy 
of notice. An old chair, known as King Philip's 
chair, and in possession of one Preserved Abell, was 
saved from the conflagration. According to tradition, 
preserved in Abell's family, Philip frequently visited 
the house, on which occasions " the big arm-chair of 
the house" was brought out as a mark of distinction 
for the chieftain's seat. This fact was well known 
to the Indians, and during the burning of the town, 
they brought out this chair for their leader to sit in. 
On leaving the house one of them threw a fire-brand 
into the chair, which destroyed the seat. The frame 
was preserved, and is still believed to be in the 
possession of the Abell family. 

On the following day, the same party of Indians 
stormed Providence. Rhode Island had taken no 
part in provoking Philip to hostilities ; she was not a 
party to the war ; she had been cast out from the 
confederacy of the other colonies as unworthy of 
assistance or notice. Yet had she to endure her 
share of the conflict, to see her settlements broken 
up, her people massacred. Her young men defended 
their own firesides unaided by their more powerful 
neighbours. Yet the inhabitants of Providence, imi- 
tating the example of their great founder, received 
the fugitives who fled to them, clothed and fed them, 
and afforded them shelter from the desolation which 
was wasting their own settlements. 

Few particulars have been preserved of the attack 
on Providence. Most of the inhabitants on the ap- 
proach of the enemy retired to the islands of Narra 



168 



king philip's war. 



gansett Bay. Thirty houses were burned, but no 
lives appear to have been lost. A source of regret 
was the destruction of the provincial records of the 
colony, together with those of the neighbouring 
colonies, and which could not be replaced. 

An incident connected with this assault is too in- 
teresting to be omitted. The aged Williams was 
still living, and he was among the few who resolved 
on remaining in the town when the Indians ap- 
proached. Never was the power of kindness in con- 
trolling the passion of the heart more pleasingly dis- 
played, than in the interview of this man with the 
chiefs who conducted the attack. They were sa- 
vages — men who had received and inflicted wrongs, 
ran til the study of revenge was the business of their 
lives. They had sworn perpetual enmity to the white 
man, and many a bloody field and smoking town 
attested the faithfulness of their oath. They came 
to Providence red from the slaughter of Pawtucket, 
and blackened by the fires of Seekonk. All who 
met them would be struck down without mercy — all 
save one. He was Roger Williams. They remem- 
bered that he had been the Indian's friend. They 
remembered that he had bought his lands of them 
at a fair price, and in all his dealings had acted with 
that strict integrity, which the savage as well as the 
civilized man knows how to appreciate. They re- 
membered that he had come among them, not as a 
spy, not with the gun in one hand and exhorbitant 
demands in the other, but as a friend. Their fathers 
had roamed with him through the fields of Narra- 



king philip's war. 



169 



gansett, and when dying, had charged their children 
to reverence him. Those stern men had not for- 
gotten the injunction ; and now at sight of him the 
battle shout died on their lips; their guns were 
thrown upward, and many hands were extended to 
welcome their benefactor. 

The conversation between these Indians and Wil- 
liams, displays the opinions entertained by their chief 
men of the causes of the war. They alleged that 
their quarrel was with Plymouth alone; but that 
they had been constrained to act against the other 
colonies by the attack on the Narragansett fort. 
They acknowledged that w 7 hen they met Pierce's 
party they were in march for Plymouth. Flushed 
with their late successes, they declared that the entire 
country would soon be subdued, and the English ex- 
terminated. Williams reproached them for their 
cruelties, and threatened them with the vengeance of 
the Bay colony, which he affirmed could raise ten 
thousand men for the war. Even if they succeeded 
in destroying them, the king of England would send 
as many from Old England every year. The In- 
dians answered haughtily that they were ready for 
them. At the same time they assured Mr. Williams 
that they would never injure him, "for he was a good 
man, had been kind to them formerly." "It was 
(says Baylies) amidst the smoking ruins of the deso- 
lation w T hich they had created, while their hands 
were reeking with the blood of the slaughtered Eng- 
lish, and while they were lamenting the loss of their 
own comrades, who had fallen by English hands, 

22 P 



170 



king Philip's war. 



that their sense of the mild virtues of Williams in- 
duced them to check the career of their rage, and to 
spare this good man." 

The ascendency of such men as Williams, Church, 
and Pierce, over the minds of the Indians, shows 
very clearly that they are very susceptible of moral 
influence. The great error of the New England 
colonists, was too low an estimate of the Indian 
character. 




CAPTURE AND DEATH OF CANONCHET. 



The period to which we have now brought the 
history of this fearful struggle, was the most prosper- 
ous enjoyed by Philip during its continuance. Towns 
had fallen before him with alarming rapidity; his 
warriors had penetrated almost to Plymouth and Bos- 
ton, and his forces were lurking in every quarter from 
the Connecticut to the ocean. The fall of the Narra- 
gansetts had actually strengthened him, and their 
fate, was being fearfully revenged. Gloom and terror 
were every where visible among the colonists. The 
rustling of leaves, the falling of a tree, the whistling 
of the wind, caused many a stout heart to beat vio & - 
lently, lest the noise might be the precursor of Philip's 
coming. Superstition increased the real danger; nor 
is it singular that an age which referred every 
unusual occurrence to the agency of some being 



172 



king philip's war. 



more powerful than man, should fancy supernatural 
appearances and warnings in the aspect of clouds, 
the cries of animals, and the howlingsof the tempest. 
One heard the whistling of bullets in the air; another 
in his dreams saw dreadful visions of Philip and his 
warriors ; troops of horses galloped over the house at 
midnight. The barking of wolves, the screaming of 
owls, the clashing of trees, and the cataract's dash, 
were interpreted as the oracles of malignant spirits, 
who foresaw and rejoiced over the calamities of God's 
people. Fast days were multiplied ; the exercises of 
the sanctuary w T ere strict and severe, and government 
enforced at the same time, and with the same un- 
sparing rigour, the military commandments and the 
spiritual. 

Under these gloomy circumstances the colonists 
displayed that determination and perseverance, with- 
out which, success would have been hopeless. The 
unprecedented demands, both for men and money, 
had left many towns without defenders, and im- 
poverished the treasury ; yet now we find Connecti- 
cut mustering another force, and providing means for 
keeping it in efficient service at her own expense. 
Four companies of volunteers were placed under 
command of Major Palms, who was assisted by Cap- 
tains Avery, Dennison, and Staunton. To these 
were added some Mohegans led by Onecho, son of 
Uncas; some Pequots, under their sachem, Casasi- 
namon, and twenty Narragansetts commanded by 
Catapazet. Among the first successes of this force 
was the capture of Canonchet. The escape of this 



king philip's war. 



173 



famous chief from the Narragansett fort has already 
been noticed. The destitute condition of his fol- 
lowers obliged him to make great exertions to supply 
them with food ; so that he appears to have made 
frequent incursions in various parts of Massachusetts 
while they remained on the Connecticut. Early in 
April, he proposed the bold design of an expedition 
to Seekonk, to procure seed corn, to plant the 
lands of his tribe, which extended along the river. 
Taking with him but thirty men, which were re- 
inforced, however, by many straggling Indians on 
the march, he set forward on his expedition early in 
April, and reaching the place of destination imme- 
diately after Pierce's flight, encamped on the Black 
Stone river near Seekonk. Here he imprudently dis- 
missed all but his original company, thirty men, ima- 
gining that no colonial force was nearer than Plymouth. 

On the 27th of March, Captain Dennison had left 
Stonington with his company on an exploring expe- 
dition. When near Seekonk, they met an Indian, 
whom they killed, and immediately after, some of the 
men captured two squaws. Being examined by 
Dennison, they informed him of Canonchet's encamp- 
ment. The captain quickened his march, and as 
Canonchet's men, instead of giving the alarm, fled in 
different directions, the colonists were almost in his 
camp before he knew of their approach. The chief 
seeing his men run, sent out two or three to ascertain 
the cause. One of these on perceiving the danger, 
returned to the wigwam, crying out as he ran, that 
the English were upon them. 



174 



king Philip's war. 



The chief immediately fled. While running around 
the hill near his camp, he was recognized by the 
Nanticks, who commenced a vigorous pursuit. The 
chase was long and exciting. One by one the chief 
threw off his blanket, his silver-laced coat, and his 
belt of peag. Still his pursuers gained upon him, 
and abandoning the hope of reaching the woods, he 
hurried toward the river. A Pequot named Mono- 
poide, noted for his swiftness, pursued in such a 
manner as to compel the chief to cross or be taken. 
Canonchet plunged into the water, and swam rapidly 
toward the opposite shore. The colonists, filled with 
disappointment and rage, hastened to reach the river's 
bank, in order to shoot him if opportunity occurred ; 
but Canonchet would have escaped safely had not 
an accident occurred, which to use his own words, 
" made his heart and bowels turn within him, so that 
he became like a rotten stick, and void of strength." 
Reaching a shallow part of the stream, he began to 
wade, when his foot struck against a stone, and he 
fell into the water. His gun sinking below the sur- 
face became useless. Probably superstition caused 
him to pause, and deprived him for the time of his 
presence of mind. , 

Monopoide, perceiving the accident, leaped into 
the water, and with singular daring, advanced directly 
toward the intimidated chief. When seized, Canon- 
chet made no resistance, " although he was a man of 
great physical strength, of superior stature, and ac- 
knowledged bravery, and the one who seized upon 
him very ordinary in that respect." A young man 



I 




CANONCIIET. 



(175) 



J 



king philip's war. 177 

named Staunton arrived soon after, and seeing the 
sachem standing quietly beside the Pequot, he began 
asking him some questions as to his conduct in the 
war. For a while Canonchet regarded him with 
silent contempt, but when the other had ceased, he 
replied calmly : " You much child — no understand 
matters of war. Let your brother or chief come, him 
I will answer." 

When brought before Dennison, he was offered 
his life, on condition that he should obtain the sub- 
mission of his nation. He rejected the offer with 
indignation. He was ordered to comply. He an- 
swered calmly that killing him would not terminate 
the war. Some of the soldiers reminded him that 
he had threatened to burn the English in their houses, 
and that notwithstanding the late treaty, he had 
boasted that he would not deliver up a Wampanoag, 
or the paring of a Wampanoag's nail. He answered 
that others were as forward for the war as himself, 
and that he desired to hear no more about it. 

Captain Dennison, filled with joy at his unexpected 
good fortune, returned soon after to Stonington. 
Once secured, the sachem was not kept long in sus- 
pense as to his fate. The officers decided that he 
should be shot. When this sentence was announced 
to him, his answer was, " I like it well. I shall die 
before my heart is soft, or I have said any thing un- 
worthy of myself." He was accused of cruelty and 
perfidy. In reply, he reminded his enemies that 
they had killed his father, and burned his people at 
Narragansett. His behaviour during the whole of 

12 



178 



king Philip's war. 



his captivity, evinced a soul which danger could not 
intimidate, nor suffering bend. 

The sentence was executed; "and that all might 
share in the glory of destroying so great a prince, 
and come under the obligation of fidelity, each to 
other, the Pequots shot him, the Mohegans cut off 
his head and quartered his body, and the Nantick 
men made the fire and burned his quarters ; and as a 
token of love and fidelity to the English, presented 
his head to the council at Hartford." The details 
are disgusting to the modern reader, and perhaps 
many who admit the justice of the sentence, will 
sigh over the hard fate of a chief, who, though he 
was a savage, loved his people, and fought nobly for 
them. The object of the colonists in dividing the 
business of execution among so many, was to engage 
each of the friendly tribes more strongly in their 
favour. "Herein (says Mather) the English dealt 
wisely, for by this means the three Indian nations 
are become abominable to the other Indians." 

The death of Canonchet was a severe loss to the 
Indians. Endowed with a lofty and generous spirit, 
he had obtained a rare influence over his own and 
ether tribes, and could at any time summon to the 
aid of Philip, warriors both faithful and efficient. 
He bound others to his interest by appealing to their 
magnanimity and heroism, rather than their fears; 
and among all Philip's captains, he is admitted to 
have been the ablest leader and the best warrior. In 
battle he was foremost in danger, yet wary and 
anxious to preserve the lives of his men. He refused, 



king philip's war. 



179 



notwithstanding the treaty with the English, to de- 
liver the fugitive Wampanoags ; but perhaps the re- 
fusal was owing as much to a generous humanity, as 
to a deliberate violation of good faith. The little 
that has been recorded of his conduct during his 
captivity, "was such, that surely at this period we 
may be allowed to lament the unhappy fate of this 
noble Indian, without incurring any imputation for 
want of patriotism." 

Soon after the death of Canonchet, Dennison with 
sixty-six volunteers, and one hundred and twelve 
Pequots, came up with a considerable body of In- 
dians, of whom he killed and captured seventy-six. 
During the year these Connecticut companies made 
ten expeditions, in which they captured two hundred 
and thirty -nine of the enemy, and took fifty guns, all 
without the loss of a man. For most of this success 
they were, however, indebted to the friendly Indians. 





ATTACK ONT CITUATE — ANECDOTE OF MRS. EWELL — 
TAUNTON SPARED BY PHILIP — ATTACK ON BRIDGE- 
WATER. 

The success of the Connecticut forces, and the 
near approach of the Indians, stimulated the other 
colonies to more vigorous exertions for raising and 
equipping men, than they had yet made. Three 
hundred soldiers were added to the Plymouth forces, 
and having been joined by a hundred friendly Xndians ? 
they marched toward the seat of war on the eleventh 
of April. But they did not act with the promptness 
which had signalized the movements of Dennison. 
Some of the towns refused to furnish their quota; 
many of the soldiers rebelled against their superiors; 
and a considerable portion of the whole force returned 
after marching to Middleborough. 

Thus each town was obliged to provide for its own 

(180) 



king Philip's war. 181 

safety. Alarm and uncertainty every where pre- 
vailed. The women and children were removed to 
garrisoned houses; additional sentinels were posted 
in the towns, and the military officers were com- 
manded, under heavy penalties, to be active in the 
discharge of their duties. The inhabitants of Dart- 
mouth, Middleborough, and Swansey, abandoned 
their homes and retired into the more thickly settled 
towns of the interior. Each individual dreaded lest 
the next attack of the savages would be upon his 
house. 

Nor were these fears ill-timed or without cause. 
On the 9th of April, some Indians entered Bridge- 
water, burned an out-house and a barn, and robbed 
some houses. They escaped, though pursued by the 
inhabitants. On the 20th a party of fifty attacked 
Scituate, Entering the town by what was called 
the Indian path, they burned an old saw-mill and a 
dwelling-house. Three-quarters of a mile south of 
the house, was a garrison of twelve men. This the 
enemy avoided, passing round in a circuit toward the 
centre of the town, firing all the houses and barns in 
their way. On the bank of the river stood a block- 
house, in which most of the inhabitants had taken 
shelter. The Indians attacked it with spirit, but the 
garrison being well armed, resisted with courage and 
success. One of the colonists named James, received 
a mortal wound; but the assailants finding it im- 
possible to take the house, marched across the fields 
toward another garrison. Various parts of the town 
were now in flames, and the families or individuals 

10 Z2 



182 



king philip's war. 



whose retreat to the garrisons had been cut off, filled 
the air with their cries of distress and terror. The 
escape of a woman named Ewell, and the subsequent 
rescue of her babe, are worthy of notice. Mr. 
E well's house was situated behind a high hill, which 
prevented the persons who might be within from 
perceiving the approach of any one from the town. 
During the attack of the Indians, no one was in the 
house except Mrs. Ewell and an infant grandchild, 
John Northey, asleep in a cradle. Suddenly the 
mother heard the savages rushing down the hill 
toward her house. In the first moment of alarm, 
she fled for the garrison, about sixty rods distant, and 
either through momentary forgetfulness, or despair, 
or with the hope of alarming the garrison in season, 
she forgot her child. Although the Indians were in 
close pursuit she reached the garrison in safety. 
The savages then entered the house and the fate of 
the sleeping infant seemed sealed. We may judge 
of the poor woman's feelings as she looked from the 
garrison toward her invaded house, in the expecta- 
tion of beholding the young innocent flung from the 
window or spitted on a dart. In a little while they 
rushed through the door and came with loud shouts 
to assault the garrison. With intense anxiety she 
scrutinized each one, dreading lest her eye might 
light upon the mangled limbs of the babe. When 
they had become pretty closely engaged with the 
garrison, she returned by a circuitous path to her 
house. The child was sleeping in the cradle quietly 
as when she had left it ; nor had the Indians in their 



king philip's war. 



183 



haste disturbed any thing, except some bread which 
they took from the oven. Mrs. Ewell carried the 
infant thus unexpectedly restored to her from de- 
struction to the garrison, and in a few hours after- 
wards her house was burned. 

On reaching the main garrison the Indians made 
a vigorous assault. The building was palisaded on 
three sides^and on the fourth guarded by a mill-pond. 
On a small island near the mill was also an out-work, 
which had been garrisoned and fortified with much 
care. Here a warm action was maintained for several 
hours, during which the assailants made repeated 
attempts to fire the buildings. Their loss was heavy, 
owing to the uninterrupted volley of musketry which 
was poured upon them from every part of the build- 
ing; yet so vigorous was their assault, that they 
were not repulsed until night, when the whole force 
of the town had been employed against them. Under 
cover of the darkness the Indians retired. Their 
loss must have been considerable, judging from the 
heavy fire which was directed against them in more 
than one part of the town. They burned nineteen 
houses and barns. 

While these calamities were falling upon one por- 
tion of the colony, the inhabitants of Taunton, Bridge- 
water, and Rehoboth, had been invited by the people 
of the towns along the sea coast, to abandon their 
dangerous positions, and take up their abode with * 
them. They received the invitation with thankful- 
ness, but refused to leave their homes, " because we 
fear we should in so doing, be wanting to the name 



184 



king philip's war. 



of God and the interest of Christ in this place, and 
betray much diffidence and cowardice, and give the 
adversary occasion to triumph over us to the reproach 
of that great and fearful name of God that is called 
upon us." 

There is little doubt that the Indians meditated an 
attack upon these towns. One of them, Taunton, 
owed its preservation, singular as it may appear, to 
Philip. The cause of the Indian king's favour may 
be given in few words, which will form, however, a 
pleasing contrast to the monotonous narrative of 
battles, burnings, and scalpings, which necessarily 
constitute the greater part of the history of any In- 
dian war. 

In 1652, a man named James Leonard emigrated 
from Pontipool in Wales to New England. He 
brought with him the first forge ever erected in 
Taunton. As this man's family increased, he became 
favourably known to the other settlers, by whom he 
was much esteemed. His business consequently 
flourished, so that even Indians repaired to his shop 
whenever they wanted guns, knives, or other articles 
repaired. Previous to the commencement of the 
war, Philip frequently passed a portion of the sum- 
mer season at a place in Taunton called Fowling 
Pond. It was on one of these occasions that he be- 
came acquainted with the Leonards. They treated 
him with kindness and great attention, repaired his 
guns, and supplied him with useful tools. These 
flattering acts of esteem made the chief their friend ; 
he became more attached to this humble yet honest 



king philip's war. 



185 



family than to any other of the colonists, and when 
the aggressions real and fancied of the white men, 
had soured the sachem's disposition, and filled his 
mind with plans of revenge, he remembered the 
kindness of the Welch emigrant, and charged all his 
warriors never to injure a Leonard. There is little 
doubt that this feeling of gratitude on the part of 
Philip saved Taunton, for the chief well knew that 
in a general attack on the town, his favourite family 
would be exposed to dangers equally with the other 
inhabitants. 

Bridgewater was not equally favoured. This town 
is situated in Plymouth county, about twenty-five 
miles south of Boston. It was then small, but its 
inhabitants had borne a full share in the previous try- 
ing scenes of the war. A report was afterwards cir- 
culated that Philip wished to save this town as well 
as Taunton ; but of this there is no reliable evidence. 
If such had been the sachem's wish it was disre- 
garded, for on the eighth of May, a chief named 
Tisguogen, approached the town with three hundred 
men. The attack was made on the east end. and on 
the south side of the river. A few persons employed 
in the fields were fired at, but succeeded in making 
their escape. The Indians followed rapidly into the 
town, casting fire-brands at the houses as they 
passed ; but on reaching the centre, they found the 
inhabitants drawn up in good order to meet them. 
A succession of spirited skirmishes ensued, during 
which the Indians were gradually driven from the 
town. Several houses had, however, been fired, and 



186 



king Philip's war. 



the flames spreading rapidly, threatened to involve 
many more, when a sudden shower arose, by which 
the flames were extinguished. 

Foiled in their attempt in this quarter, the assailants 
crossed the river and attacked the northern part of 
the town. Here too the inhabitants had been warned ; 
the fierce charge of the savages was met with firm- 
ness, and resisted with success, and after burning a 
few houses they hastily retreated. About three 
miles distant stood a small house, in which the In- 
dians sought refuge, and where they passed the night. 
The inhabitants anticipating another attack at day- 
light, laboured hard through the night to prepare for 
it; but the Indians having burned the house in which 
they had quartered, with another house and a barn, 
marched away. Thirteen houses were destroyed in 
this attack, but none of the people were killed. 

Similar attacks were made in various parts of the 
Plymouth colony about this time. Five persons were 
killed near Taunton ; eighteen houses and seven 
barns were burned at Plymouth; Middleborough 
and Bridgewater for the third time were also attacked, 
but without any success. The inhabitants of the 
colony, notwithstanding their great efforts, seemed as 
far from peace as they had been at the beginning of 
the campaign. 





DESTRUCTION OF GROTON AND MARLBOROUGH. 

While Plymouth was suffering throughout all the 
border towns, the Massachusetts colony sustained its 
full share of the public calamity. During the months 
of February and March, several individuals were 
killed at Concord while engaged in their barns or 
near their houses ; but the town of Groton appears 
to have been closely watched for several weeks. 
Early in March, the Indians suddenly entered some 
houses, secured all the goods inside, and drove off a 
few cattle. For several days after this, they were 
seen in various places in the neighbourhood, appa- 
rently watching a favourable opportunity of attack. 
On the 9th a party of them seized some out-houses, 
and endeavoured to ensnare four men who had been 
sent from the garrisons of the town to bring in hay. 
The ambush was discovered in time for two of the 

(187) 

a ! . - 



188 



king Philip's war. 



men to escape ; one was killed ; the other was cap 
tured, but he succeeded in making his escape. 

The main attack was reserved for the 13th. The 
inhabitants, remembering Lancaster, had collected in 
five garrisoned houses, which had been fortified as 
carefully as the means of the town would admit. 
Four of these houses were placed so as to form a 
square, having paths between them for driving cattle 
into the pastures, which were in the rear of the 
houses. The other garrison stood by itself at the 
distance of a mile. On the day preceding the attack, 
a scouting party had been sent from the town for the 
purpose of ascertaining if the enemy were near; but 
after exploring the neighbouring country for several 
miles, they returned without having discovered an 
Indian. 

The Indians managed the attack with great cunning. 
The people feeling secure from the report of their 
spies, had scattered over the fields to pursue their 
daily occupations of husbandry. Behind a hill which 
arose near one of the garrisons, the assailants placed 
a large body of their men in ambush, and at the 
same time two of their number appeared on the top 
of the hill in full view of the town. The stratagem 
succeeded. The village was alarmed ; the farmers 
ran to the garrisons to volunteer for pursuit ; the two 
nearest garrisons mustered in full force, and forming 
at the bottom of the hill commenced a vigorous pur- 
suit. The Indians retired carelessly ; and their pur- 
suers, forgetting the similar stratagems which had 
decoyed many of their countrymen to ruin, followed 



king philip's war. 



189 



with increased blindness. Gaining the top of the 
hill, they passed to the other side, and descended into 
the ambush. 

In a moment, the concealed Indians sprang from 
their hiding-place. The path, the hedges, the foot of 
the hill, appeared covered with them. At the first 
sight of that dread array, the colonists started back- 
ward in terror. But there was no time for stupid 
wonder, much less to form any plan of resistance. 
With cries of savage exultation, the Indians dis- 
charged their guns in rapid succession. One man 
was killed and three w r ounded ; and to the unfavour- 
able position of the ambush, must be ascribed the 
subsequent escape of the remainder. No resistance 
was attempted ; each one thought of his own safety, 
and the whole force retraced their steps, and retreated 
over the side of the hill more rapidly than they had 
crossed it. 

A large body of the Indians now spread themselves 
through the village, to plunder and burn the ungar- 
risoned houses. Fences were broken down, sheds 
and other temporary buildings demolished, and 
large quantities of combustible matter piled up in 
the houses and set on fire. The barns, the out-houses, 
and, lastly, the church, were in turn assailed. The 
savages, delighted at the opportunity of pursuing the 
work of destruction without molestation, filled the 
air with their shouts of exultation, and danced in 
true Indian style around the burning houses. The 
flames, fanned by a strong wind, rolled rapidly up 
ward, until the greater part of the town was en 



190 



king philip's war. 



veloped in the conflagration. The inhabitants beheld 
the labour of many years destroyed in a day ; and 
trembled lest the fortified buildings, with their frail 
garrisons, would be involved in the common destruc- 
tion. But instead of giving way to despair they 
prepared for a vigorous resistance, and this determined 
spirit evinced by them in the hour of danger, alone 
saved them from falling victims to their enemy. 

While the affair was transpiring on the hill, a 
second ambush assailed one of the defenceless houses, 
which contained many women and children. The lat- 
ter escaped to one of the other garrisons without in- 
jury, but the Indians tore down the palisade and entered 
the house. After securing a large quantity of booty, 
they indulged themselves with the provisions, and 
prepared for further assaults. 

This house was quite near to the one in which the 
retreating colonists had taken refuge, and amid the 
scenes of horror incident to the occasion, a most sin- 
gular conversation began between Moneco, or One- 
eyed John, the Indian leader, and the commandant 
of the next fort, Captain Parker. After some con- 
versation, in which they speculated on the probability 
of peace, Moneco began to boast of his late deeds. 
He had burned Medfield and Lancaster, and he would 
soon burn Cambridge, Charlestown, Boston, Concord, 
and Watertown. The Indians passed the night in 
the house. 

The distant garrison presented a fair opportunity 
for attack. The occasion was not neglected. An 
aged Indian, apparently almost helpless, passed near 



king Philip's war. 



191 



the house with a sheep on his back. Several fired at 
him without effect, and some of the garrison, exas- 
perated at his supposed insolence, went out to pursue 
him. They discovered their danger barely in time to 
escape. They informed their comrades of the ambush 
by signs, and soon after succeeded in joining them. 

The Indians not engaged in the house, passed the 
night dancing and feasting in an adjoining valley. 
Forty houses beside various out-buildings had been 
consumed, and the aspect of the once flourishing 
town, as huge volumes of smoke rolled up from its 
smothering ruins, was dreary and fearful. In the 
morning the Indians amused themselves by shooting 
for a while at Parker's garrison, after which they 
prepared to depart. Unwilling to do so without 
gratifying their cruelty further than they had as yet 
had opportunity for, they placed the head of the dead 
soldier on a pole, hewed a corpse to pieces, and sliced 
a dead infant to feed some hogs. Groton was subse- 
quently abandoned by the inhabitants. 

After this success, the- Indians seem to have scat- 
tered in various directions, for the purpose of attack- 
ing at the same time, a number of detached settle- 
ments. Pierce's company it will be remembered 
were destroyed on the 26th of March. On the same 
day Marlborough was attacked and burned, the gar- 
risoned houses being the only ones which escaped 
the conflagration. One man was shot at Weymouth, 
another at Hingham. At Rehoboth, some Indians 
attacked the house of a man named Woodcock, kill- 
ing two persons, wounding another, and burning a 



192 



king philip's war. 



house. On the 17th of April they returned to Marl- 
borough, and burned the houses which had escaped 
the former conflagration. 

Two expeditions conducted by private individuals 
against separate parties of the enemy are worthy of 
notice. On the day after the first attack on Marl- 
borough, (March 27) Lieutenant Jacobs, who com- 
manded the soldiers of that place, marched in pursuit 
of the Indians. His force was forty men, of whom 
part were inhabitants of Sudbury. After proceeding 
with great caution for some time, they discovered 
nearly three hundred Indians lying near their fires, 
about half a mile from the town. After carefully re- 
connoitring their position, the lieutenant commenced 
a vigorous attack. Completely surprised, the Indians 
offered no resistance. Each one sprang from the 
ground and sought safety in flight. Their forms 
appearing in relief against the fire, afforded easy 
opportunities for the colonists to fire with effect, 
w r hile the latter were, from the darkness of the night, 
and the advantages of their position, perfectly secure. 
Under these favourable circumstances the lieutenant 
and his men maintained an uninterrupted fire, until 
the. Indians were entirely driven from the ground. 
Thirty are supposed to have been wounded, of which 
number fourteen subsequently died. Jacobs did not 
lose a man. The other expedition was conducted by 
Captain Ware, of Wrentham, and occurred, accord- 
ing to tradition, some time in April. A man named 
Rocket, while pursuing a stray horse, discovered a 
party of Indians. Instead of running, he concealed 



king Philip's war. 



193 



himself, and began very deliberately to count them. 
They numbered forty -two, and Rocket watched them 
until they halted and began making preparations for 
passing the night. He then hurried back to Wren- 
tham and gave the alarm. 

The inhabitants of this small town displayed a 
degree of wisdom and heroism, which might have 
been imitated with advantage by the authorities of 
more considerable and better defended places. The 
aged, the women, and the children, were removed to 
the garrisoned houses, while a company of thirteen, 
under Captain Ware, marched to surprise the enemy. 
Guided by Rocket, they reached the spot in safety, 
and concealed themselves in such a manner, that 
while out of danger themselves, they could discharge 
their pieces with effect on the enemy. They received 
orders, however, to reserve their fire until the Indians 
should awake. The latter, after sleeping a few hours, 
rose to pursue their journey, unconscious of the fate 
which impended, over them. At this moment Ware's 
party fired w T ith terrible effect. Many fell at the 
first fire; the others completely bewildered offered 
no resistance. Some ran toward the woods ; a few 
leaped down a precipice twenty feet high. The 
colonists, rushing from their hiding-places, killed all 
the wounded as they passed on, and pursued the fu- 
gitives to the woods. Those who could gain no other 
refuge leaped into the river. Woodcock, one of 
Ware's party, shot an Indian at the distance of eighty 
rods with a musket, and afterwards killed him. The 
enemy lost twenty ; of the colonists none was injured. 

13 



ATTACK ON SUDBURY — AMBUSH — TERRIBLE FATE OF 
WADSWORTH's PARTY ALARM AT BOSTON. 

The Indians were not long in avenging the losses 
sustained in the skirmishes just narrated. On the 
18th of April, they attacked Sudbury, a small town 
in the present county of Middlesex, nearly west of 
Boston. The first notice of their approach was the 
firing of several houses and barns, and the loud war- 
whoop. Fortunately for the inhabitants, Captain 
Hugh Mason, with some soldiers from Watertown, 
entered the town almost at the same moment with the 
enemy ; and having rallied a number of men around 
him, he made a spirited defence. The object of the 
Indians was rather to plunder and destroy buildings 
' than to fight, so that after exchanging a few shots, 
they retreated over a bridge south of the town. 

Meanwhile the people of Concord, hearing of the 

(194) 



king Philip's war. 



195 



attack, resolved on sending assistance to Sudbury, 
and eleven men well armed marched hastily for that 
town. On approaching a garrisoned house, they dis- 
covered a few Indians, whom they commenced pur- 
suing. The Indians retired leisurely until they 
reached a part of the road which was flanked on 
both sides by thick woods, when they suddenly dis- 
appeared. The colonists rashly pursued until they 
were in the centre of the ambush laid for them 
by the enemy. The fatal snare was discovered, but 
it was then too late to escape. On every side armed 
savages sprang up and poured upon the devoted band 
a heavy and uninterrupted fire. Flight was hope- 
less; resistance useless; and the generous men who 
had risked their lives to aid the inhabitants of a 
neighbouring town, were all killed, without help and 
without mercy. 

But the main part of the calamities consequent on 
this attack remains to be told. Previous to the attack 
on Sudbury, Captain Wadsworth had been sent from 
Boston with fifty men to relieve Marlborough. On 
the way he was joined by volunteers and others, so 
that his entire force, when he encountered the enemy, 
amounted probably to seventy men. He had scarcely 
reached Marlborough, when he learned the danger 
of Sudbury. His situation was most trying. Having 
marched all the day and night before, his men were 
exhausted with fatigue, beside which he knew not 
but that the Indians might still be lurking in force 
near Marlborough. Yet he lost no time in setting 
out for Sudbury, taking with him Captain Bioekle* 



196 



king philip's war. 



bank and ten men from the garrison. On the 19th 
he arrived by a forced march within a mile and a 
half of the town, and in the vicinity of some hills 
which were covered with thick bushes interspersed 
with trees. In this secure hiding-place, a body of 
Indians, numbering as was supposed five hundred, 
had concealed themselves, in readiness to attack any 
force which might march to the relief of Sudbury. 
They beheld the approach of their victims with silent 
and malignant satisfaction. 

As usual a few of their number were stationed on 
the hills to entice the colonists to their destruction. 
The latter eagerly pursued thern, and winding among 
the hills marched directly into the trap prepared for 
them. In a moment the action commenced. The 
grass and brushwood around seemed living with the 
crowds that suddenly rose from it, while a wide sheet 
of fire flashing from tree to tree until all around 
seemed in flames, showed to the astonished colonists the 
danger into which they had so blindly suffered them- 
selves to be led. Wads worth, assisted by the gallant 
Brocklebank, succeeded in keeping his men steady 
under the first fire, after which he retreated to a hill 
which afforded a good position for defence. Although 
hotly pursued he reached it in safety. The battle 
then began in earnest. The savages swarming on all 
sides, poured volleys of musketry into the wood which 
concealed their enemies, or rushed forward with the 
tomahawk to drive them from their position. On the 
other hand, the little party concealing themselves be- 
hind rocks and trees, plied their muskets with heroic 



king philip's war. 



197 



valour and with much effect amid the crowded 
ranks of the Indians. Balls rattled in showers over 
the stony soil, and scattered the twigs and branches 
of trees in every direction. During four hours the 
colonists maintained the action, and drove back the 
savages as often as they attempted to charge their 
position. By this time the loss of the enemy had 
become severe, and their exasperation was exhibited 
in their hideous cries and gestures, and the reckless 
manner in which they exposed themselves. In their 
extremity they devised a stratagem, as ingenious in 
invention as terrible in its effect. This was to fire 
the woods on that side of their enemy from which 
the wind blew, and when the soldiers would be 
driven from their shelter by the flames, to fall upon 
them with the hatchet. Their plan was completely 
successful. Owing to the dryness of the grass and 
brushwood, and to a strong wind then blowing, the 
flames spread rapidly, gliding from side to side and 
rolling upward, until the hill presented the sublime 
aspect of a prairie on fire. The savages, elated with 
their success, collected in bands to attack the soldiers 
as soon as they should leave their positions. As the 
fugitives fled from the burning mass behind them, 
they were assailed, surrounded, crushed to the earth. 
Seven, eight or twelve Indians struck at each one. 
The action was quickly decided. For a few moments 
there was the struggle of despair, the fierce and vi- 
gorous exertions of the last effort for life ; then the 
brave men who had fought so long against fearful 

b2 



19S 



king Philip's war. 



odds, sunk one by one beneath the hatchets of their 
foes. Both the captains were killed, and more than 
fifty of their men shared their fate or were taken 
prisoners. Most of the others took refuge in a neigh- 
bouring mill, where they were saved by the arrival 
of Captains Prentice and Crowell, both of whom had 
narrowly escaped the fate of Wadsworth. The fu- 
gitives were collected by Crowell's company, and 
escorted in safety to the town. 

Thus the Indians up to the latter part of April 
succeeded in maintaining their position in the vicinity 
of Boston, where they spread the utmost terror and 
confusion. There seems to have been little or no 
system pursued by the colonists in waging the war, 
notwithstanding the large force then in the field, and 
the means possessed for rendering that force efficient. 
Each officer did pretty much as he pleased. When 
ordered to one town, he frequently directed his course 
toward another; if successful he w^as applauded; if 
defeated he was cashiered. The soldiers who garri- 
soned the towns w r ere sometimes so ill arranged as to 
be rather an encumbrance than otherwise ; and the 
manner in which they suffered themselves to be en- 
snared by the foe, displays little judgment or ac- 
quaintance with Indian warfare. Hence the people 
of the small towns, although they might be unwilling 
to acknowledge it, felt little confidence in their de- 
fenders; the war seemed more perplexing as it ad- 
vanced, and instead of Philip being a "cowardly 
traitor,'' as had been at first very complacently re- 



king philip's war. 



199 



ported, he was felt to be a most dangerous foe. The 
war, instead of being a succession of slight skir- 
mishes, followed by the abject submission, or total 
extermination of the more prominent Indians, had 
proved a contest for existence itself. 



CAPTAIN CHURCH RETIRES TO RHODE ISLAND. 



The Plymouth colony, the instigator of the war, 
was at this period reduced to great distress. Some 
of its most flourishing towns had been destroyed; 
commuication with the interior was in a great mea- 
sure interrupted ; the inhabitants were hurrying to- 
ward the sea coast ; anxiety and terror every where 
prevailed. Almost every exertion which could be 
made had been, in raising troops and equipping them ; 
but some of those ordered had proved too many for the 
towns to supply ; others had refused to march ; and 
numbers after marching a few miles through the 
woods, had abandoned the service in disgust. Amid 
these gloomy appearances news of Wads worth's fate 
arrived. The council of war met immediately. The 
members looked inquiringly one upon another not 
knowing what to do. Doubt, vexation, and dismay, 

(200) 



KING PHILIP 'S WAR. 



201 



appeared in that company, which had formerly re- 
jected all plea or mediation for peace. It was evident 
to all that but one means remained by which the tide 
of disasters could be arrested, and the exertions of 
the colony rendered efficient. 

In the early stages of this war, there was a man 
who had come from his secure retreat in Rhode Is- 
land to offer his services to the government as a vo- 
lunteer. They were accepted ; and in many a sharp 
skirmish this unostentatious man had proved that he 
understood perfectly the only mode of warfare by 
which Indians can be successfully combated. In 
every encounter with them he was either victorious, 
or covered his retreat with acts of heroism ; and in 
several of their greatest expeditions, he conducted 
large parties, and was mainly instrumental to the 
final success. Such a soldier government should 
have adopted, and bound to her by the strongest ties; 
but instead of doing so, she forgot his services, and 
passed by his name in her time of appointments with 
silence and contempt. The reason was, that the vo- 
lunteer, humane as well as brave, had acknowledged 
the validity of treaties made with Indians, and had 
resisted with manly firmness the sale of captives 
into slavery. He consequently remained in obscurity 
during the disastrous spring of 1676. This man was 
Benjamin Church. 

Church was the only man in the colony capable of 
conducting an Indian campaign properly, and he was 
the last man whom the colony wished to employ in 
that service. But happily for New England there 

26 



202 



king Philip's war. 



was now no alternative, and a peculiarly ungraceful 
invitation was extended to him by the council, re- 
questing his presence before them, " he being ob- 
served by the whole colony to be a person extraordi- 
narily qualified for, and adapted to the affairs of war." 

Church obeyed the summons with alacrity, and 
his appearance before the council was the signal for 
dismissing their fears and resuming the old plan of 
speculating about the best method of continuing the 
war. A proposal which met with great favour, pro- 
vided for the raising of sixty or seventy men, who 
were to march immediately against the party which 
had destroyed Wadsworth, it being feared that those 
Indians would on their return attack Rehoboth or 
some other frontier town. Of this force Church was 
invited to assume the command. 

Time and many a disastrous battle, had proved the 
folly of sending a handful of men into woods abound- 
ing with Indians; and the recent fate of Wadsworth's 
company, ought to have demonstrated the danger 
that every such party encountered from a hidden foe. 
We cannot wonder, therefore, that Church declined 
accepting command under such circumstances. His 
opinion as to the manner of prosecuting the war was 
then asked. Church replied that if the enemy re- 
turned to Plymouth again, it was to be expected that 
they would come in force, and hence to send out 
companies so small as those proposed against the 
Indians, then mustering, would be to deliver so 
many men into their hands to share the fate of Wads- 
worth. He would accept the command of seventy 



king philip's war. 



203 



men only on condition that he should be allowed 
to lead them into the woods and fight the savages 
after their own fashion. Yet he urged them if 
they sent out any forces, not to let the number be 
less than three hundred, the other colonies being at 
the same time requested to furnish similar quotas. 
He added that if they intended to make an end of 
the war by subduing the enemy, they must make a 
business of the war as the enemy did, and that for his 
own part he had wholly laid aside all his own private 
business and concerns ever since the war broke out. 
If they would send forth such forces as he should di- 
rect them to, he would go with them for a six weeks' 
march, which was long enough for men to be kept 
in the woods at once ; and if they might be sure of 
liberty to return in such a space, men would go out 
cheerfully ; and he would engage that one hundred 
and fifty of the best soldiers should immediately enlist 
voluntarily to go with him, if they would please to 
add fifty more, and one hundred friendly Indians; 
and with such an army he made no doubt that he 
might do good service, but on other terms he did not 
incline to be concerned. 

The advice was rejected by the Plymouth council 
with strong expressions of disapprobation ; and the 
idea of employing the friendly Indians was treated 
with contempt. They were still anxious, however, 
to engage him in the service ; but Church foreseeing 
the calamities which their policy would entail upon 
the colony, resolved to remove his family to Rhode 
Island. His few friends still remaining in Plymouth 



204 



king philip's war. 



tried in vain to dissuade him. They then urged that 
his wife and child might be left at Clark's garrison, 
which was considered one of the safest in the neigh- 
bourhood. But Church, persisting in his resolution, 
arrived safely in Rhode Island; and it is worthy of 
notice, that within twenty four hours after his arrival 
there, Clark's house was attacked and destroyed. 

Had the Indians at this time possessed the resources 
necessary* for prosecuting the war, the Plymouth 
government would speedily have become convinced 
of the wisdom of Church's advice. Fortunately for 
the colonists, their enemies were reduced to great ex- 
tremities by want of food and other causes. Before 
the war they had frequently resorted to the sea coast 
for the purpose of fishing, which furnished one of 
their chief means of support; but as the colonists 
had possession of the coast, it was impossible to reach 
it without incurring great danger. Most of their 
winter stores having been destroyed, they were desti- 
tute of that useful article, and the failure of Canon- 
chet's enterprise left them even without seed corn. 
Hence their only resource was the produce of the 
chase ; but the inordinate use of animal food without 
salt or vegetables, engendered diseases which made 
fearful ravages among them. Reduced to the verge 
of starvation, they became dispirited, and indulged 
in many doubts as to their ultimate success. This 
miserable condition of the Indians saved many a 
town from attack, and contributed in no small degree 
to the ultimate ruin of Philip. 

At this period, several white agents visited the hos- 



king philip's war. 



205 



tile tribes, and succeeded without much difficulty in 
rescuing a number, of captives who had been taken in 
the early part of the war. Among these was Mrs. 
Rowkndson, wife of the Reverend Mr. Rowlandson, 
pastor of Lancaster, she having been carried away 
by the Indians after the attack on that place. 

To increase the distress of the Indians, Philip was 
attacked by the Mohawks, the most powerful savages 
of the neighbourhood, and the hereditary enemies of 
the aborigines of New England. After the war it 
was reported that Philip had killed some scattering 
Mohawks, for the purpose of persuading their tribe 
that the act had been committed by the English, and 
so enlisting the Mohawks in his own cause. But 
one of them being merely wounded, recovered suffi- 
ciently to inform his tribe of the real perpetrator of 
the outrage. Enraged by this unprovoked insult, 
the Mohawks attacked him suddenly, killed forty of 
his men and drove him from their territory. 

Such is the report. In it is nothing inconsistent 
with the character of Philip, for he was an Indian 
and a savage, and the Mohawks were his bitter ene- 
mies. But the story was not circulated until after 
the war had closed; besides which there seems some- 
thing improbable in the idea of the Indian chief 
performing so important a work, as the murder of 
Mohawks, in a manner so careless that one of them 
should recover and give information of his treach- 
erous conduct. In addition to these reasons which 
render this report improbable, the celebrated " Letters 
to London," written during the war, contain this 



206 



king philip's war. 



passage relative to Philip's difficulty with the Mo- 
hawks. "King Philip and some of the northern 
Indians, having wandered up towards Albany, the 
Mohawks marched out very strong in a warlike pos- 
ture upon them, putting them to flight and pursuing 
them as far as Hassicke river, which is about two 
days' march from the east side of Hendson river to 
the north-east, killing divers, and bringing away 
some prisoners with great pride and triumph, which 
ill success on that side where they did not expect 
any enemy, having lately endeavoured to make up 
the ancient animosities, did very much daunt and 
discourage the said northern Indians, so that some 
hundreds came in and submitted themselves to the 
English at Plymouth colony." 

Under misfortune, the Indian quickly becomes dis- 
couraged. He has not the forethought of the white 
man, nor the disposition to conduct with patience a 
long campaign. Hence when provisions fail, when 
his efforts against an enemy are unsuccessful, when 
the expedition is long and tedious, he generally be- 
comes indolent and careless, preferring to return or to 
make peace, rather than to pursue an object whose 
attainment is uncertain. Such was the case at this 
period of the war. Upon the whole the Indians had 
maintained the contest with great spirit, and perhaps 
the tide of success was at this very period in their 
favour. But the failure of their provisions was a 
fatal blow to their hopes of future prosperity, and 
their scattered condition destroyed the efficiency of 
their actual force. Several of their great chiefs had 



king philip's war. 



207 



been killed or captured, and traitors among themselves 
were continually passing to the English. Thus their 
positions and designs became known to the colonists, 
so that in moving from place to place or in seeking 
food, they were frequently in danger of being sur- 
prised and cut off. 

Many, therefore, of the allied tribes began to de- 
vise measures to effect separate treaties with the 
colonists, with the hope that by doing so they would 
receive that mercy which was denied by the colonial 
governments to prisoners taken in arms. Numbers 
deserted Philip and retired to the north, while those 
who passed over to the English, sought by every means 
to induce others to follow their example, hoping thereby 
to save their own lives. Hence at the time when 
Philip's cause might have been most flourishing, it 
was falling to pieces, and success, so long wavering 
between the parties, inclined toward the colonists. 




BATTLE AT THE UPPER FALLS OF THE CONNECTICUT. 

The operations of the war during the month of 
April were extremely desultory and unsatisfactory. 
For a while the attention of the colonists was directed 
^ to the Wamesits, a tribe of Indians who had formerly 
been friendly to the whites. In the course of the 
preceding autumn, (1675) these peaceable Indians, 
under a false suspicion that they had fired a barn, 
had been attacked by parties of the English, and 
several of them killed. They remained quiet during 
the winter, but the injury was remembered, and in 
the following spring they began their measure^foiT^. 
revenge. ^ 

Early in March they broke up their settlement, 
and moving westward, entered the town of Andover. 
Here they killed a young man, captured his brother, 
and burned a house/ Proceeding to Concord, they 

(208) 



king philip's war. 



209 



killed another man, and, on the 18th of April, de- 
stroyed many houses at Chelmsford. By thus sud- 
denly attacking a town, and then retreating before a 
force could be mustered, they kept the northern part 
of Massachusetts in continual alarm, and when joined 
by other small parties in the neighbourhood, they de- 
fied the militia and volunteers, which were mustered 
to pursue them. Government, alarmed by this new 
danger, raised several companies of both foot and 
horse, which marched from Boston on the 27th of 
April. This force continued in the field until the 
6th of May, during which time they killed or cap- 
tured sixteen of the enemy, who were pursuing a 
bear. 

A number of small parties were surprised about 
this time. Captain Brattle with a company of horse- 
men attacked some Indians who were fishing near 
Rehoboth, and killed twelve. Captain Holyoke per- 
formed a similar exploit near Springfield. On the 
other hand, some farmers engaged in tillage near 
Hadley, were surprised, notwithstanding the presence 
of a company of soldiers, and three of their number 
killed. 

The greater part of the hostile Indians had retired 
to the upper falls of the Connecticut, where they 
were industriously engaged in fishing. The soldiers 
had retired from the territory, so that on this beauti- 
ful spot the savages felt perfectly secure, and applied 
themselves earnestly to supplying themselves with 
provisions. Occasionally they visited Deerfield, the 
town nearest to them, stole the cattle of the inhabit- 

14 



210 



king philip's war. 



ants, and committed various petty injuries. Re- 
peated success in these incursions, rendered them 
careless, and this carelessness eventuated in their 
ruin. 

Two boys who had been captured, contrived to es- 
cape, and they informed the inhabitants of the neigh- 
bouring towns of the unguarded manner in which 
the Indians passed their time. One hundred and 
fifty men, partly soldiers, but mostly farmers, were 
raised in the towns of Hadley, Hatfield, and North- 
ampton, and on the night of the 18th of May, they 
marched toward the Indian camp under the com- 
mand of Captains Turner and Holyoke. On reach- 
ing it they dismounted in silence, fastened their 
horses, and proceeded cautiously into the camp. All 
was silent. The Indians were sunk in deep slumber ; 
no scouts were abroad ; no watch had been set. On 
the ground lay the remains of a feast in which they 
had indulged during the evening. No sound, not 
even the breaking of a twig, or the crack of a gun- 
lock, w T arned the helpless savages of their impending 
fate. 

The assailants took deliberate aim, and their ene- 
mies were aroused from sleep by a volley which 
carried destruction through their camp. The survi- 
vors sprang to their feet ; day was just dawning, and 
in the dim twilight friend could not be distinguished 
from foe. Some shouted that the Mohawks were 
upon them, and that dreaded name was echoed from 
mouth to mouth, until all were screaming in an agony 
of fear— "the Mohawk!" "the Mohawk!" Some 



KING PHILIPS WAR. 



211 



sprang into the river and were drowned; others 
leaped into their canoes, and were carried, helpless, 
over the falls, or shot by the colonists, and a number 
crept under the banks of the river, where they were 
assailed with swords, cut to pieces and thrown into 
the stream. All who fled were pursued and cut 
down, until about two hundred had perished. Cap- 
tain Holyoke killed five with his own hands. The 
forge which had been erected for repairing their arms 
was burned, and the whole encampment destroyed. 

The victory thus quickly gained was snatched 
from the victors with equal rapidity. One of the 
Indians whom they had captured, artfully informed 
them that Philip was rapidly approaching with one 
thousand men. The English instead of despatching 
spies to ascertain the truth of the report, were seized 
with consternation. Pursuit was immediately aban- 
doned, and the party collecting as rapidly as possible, 
commenced a disorderly retreat. Every noise aug- 
mented their confusion, and the rustling of leaves 
caused many a heart to pant with fear, which but a 
few moments before was engaged in the work of 
death. 

This unsoldierly conduct furnished occasion for 
their fears to be realized. The sun had arisen, and 
by its light the Indians who had escaped to the other 
side of the river, perceived, much to their astonish- 
ment, how small was the force from which they had 
fled. With a promptness rarely evinced by Indians, 
they crossed to the opposite bank, and joining with 
those who still remained, fell with resistless fury 



212 



king Philip's wo. 



upon the flying rear. All was terror and confusion. 
Captain Turner, whose health previous to marching 
had been delicate, was worn out by the exertions of 
the night, and had to be carried. Several were shot 
down at the first, fire ; and the whole party, helpless 
through fear, would have shared their fate, had not 
Holyoke thrown himself into the rear, and by his 
exertions and heroic conduct encouraged his men. 
At length his horse was shot under him and he fell 
to the ground. The Indians rushed forward to de- 
spatch him, but springing to his feet, he shot two 
with his pistols, and succeeded in keeping the others 
off with his gun. A soldier ran to his rescue, and 
conducted him safely to the party. " By thus show- 
ing himself in every quarter where his soldiers were 
pressed, sometimes in the front, sometimes in the 
rear, and again on the flanks, he kept their spirits 
alive, and animated them to prodigious exertions." 
After a disastrous retreat of several miles they reached 
a place of safety, having left on the road thirty-eight 
of their number, among whom was Captain Turner. 
Notwithstanding this success, the Indians of the 
Connecticut seem never to have recovered from the 
ilosses sustained by them in the early part of this 
action. Nearly all their provisions, which they had 
gathered with much care, and their ammunition were 
destroyed, together with their tools and other mate- 
rials. Several of the more valiant chiefs had been 
killed in the action or drowned, and the remainder 
were again reduced to the brink of starvation. It is 
probably owing to the scarcity of ammunition among 



king philip's war. 



213 



the Indians at this time, that so many of Holyoke ? s 
party escaped, and the serious results to which this 
destitution gave rise, will appear more plainly in the 
progress of our narrative. 

In connection with this attack upon the Indians, a 
curious circumstance is told of the Reverend Mr. 
Atherton, who accompanied the expedition as chap- 
lain. In the confusion of the retreat he became 
separated from the troops, and was lost in the woods. 
After wandering for a long period without being able 
to find the road, he concluded to surrender to the In- 
dians. Approaching a party to whom he had been 
guided by their shouting, he signified his purpose to 
them by signs. They gazed upon him with wonder 
and awe ; he went nearer and called to them, but the 
whole party fled leaving him alone. They appear 
to have discovered his profession by his dress, and 
believing a clergyman to possess supernatural powers, 
desired to have nothing to do with him. He after- 
wards reached the Connecticut, and following its 
course reached Hatfield, of which he was pastor, ex- 
hausted with fatigue and hunger. 




ATTACK ON HATFIELD AND HADLEY. 

The remote settlement of Hatfield had already 
suffered severely by the attacks and depredations of 
the Indians. Situated in a neighbourhood which was 
constantly watched by the enemy, its inhabitants 
were obliged to be on the alert to prevent surprise, 
and great quantities of cattle were shot or stolen in 
the neighbourhood during the months of March and 
April. Soon after the battle at the Falls, the In- 
dians planned another attack against it. The 30th 
of May was chosen for its execution. 

In the morning a large party of the enemy (accord- 
ing to Baylies, six hundred) appeared before the town. 
The houses in the centre had been carefully fortified 
by surrounding each with an inclosure of stakes 
driven into the ground ; but the inhabitants seem to 
have forgotten their usual caution, so that no senti- 

(214) 



king philip's war. 



215 



nels were posted, and no arrangements made to guard 
against an attack. All the men except one, decrepit 
from age, were at labour in the fields ; hence the first 
notice of the Indians was their war-whoop. In a 
few moments twelve of the outer-houses and barns 
were in flames, and the savages moved down the 
main road to attack the garrisoned houses, and cut 
off the entrance of the inhabitants to the town. 
Every thing seemed to favour the project. The 
town people, taken by surprise, appeared incapable 
of resistance ; no military force was near ; and the 
flames spreading rapidly, threatened soon to complete 
the desolation already begun. 

In this extremity, help arrived from Hadley. It 
will be remembered that this town is directly south 
of Hatfield, but on the opposite bank of the Connec- 
ticut, which here makes a large bend toward the 
west. The inhabitants of one could easily perceive 
what was taking place in the other by looking across 
the stream. Twenty-five young men of Hadley, ob- 
serving the danger on the other side, crossed the 
stream and marched rapidly toward the Indians. 
The latter, not understanding the object of this bold 
movement, paused; but the newly arrived force, 
moving in close order, charged the host of enemies, 
pressed directly through them, and gained the forti- 
fied houses. The retreat of the inhabitants was 
thus covered, and the assailants imagining it of little 
use to assault the garrisons, retired. Their loss in 
killed and wounded was twenty-five. Five of the 
Hadley men were killed. 



216 



king philip's war. 



The Massachusetts government had believed that 
the war on the Connecticut was closed. The ra- 
vages of the Indians convinced them of their mis- 
take; and Major Savage, with all his forces, was 
ordered to march immediately for that territory. 

This force was to be joined by three hundred and 
fifty Connecticut troops under Major Talcott, who 
was also assisted by the Pequots and Mohegans. 
Early in June the major marched with four hundred 
and fifty men, of whom two hundred were Indians, 
to Wabsquasset, which had been deserted. After 
burning the wigwams and destroying five acres of 
standing corn, he continued his march to Chanagan- 
gum, another Indian town. Here he encountered a 
body of Indians, killed nineteen and captured thirty- 
three. The particulars of this affair are not given. 
On the 8th of June the major reached Northampton, 
where he found the neighbouring country in a state 
of desolation, and where his men suffered much for 
want of provisions. His men were not permitted 
to remain long inactive. On the 12th of June, a 
party of Indians, numbering, according to report, 
seven hundred, attacked the town of Hadley. Tal- 
cott with his own men and a considerable force from 
Connecticut, immediately marched to its relief. The 
assault began at day-break and was conducted with 
great spirit, The Indians having gained possession 
of a house ortthe north end of the main street, fired 
an adjoining barn, and made vigorous efforts to drive 
back the soldiers as they advanced toward the centre 
of the town to muster. After a vigorous fire of 



king philip's war. 



217 



musketry, the Indians were driven back; but they 
renewed the attack at other points, forcing parties of 
the inhabitants toward the centre of the town, and 
throwing brands in various directions, in order to set 
the houses on fire. At the same time they placed an 
ambuscade on the other side of the town, to surprise 
the inhabitants who should attempt to escape. The 
plan however failed, owing principally to the employ- 
ment by the inhabitants of a piece of ordnance in 
possession of the garrison. 

At this moment Major Talcott arrived. Most of 
his men being mounted, he made a vigorous charge 
upon the enemy, scattering them in all directions 
and driving them into the woods. So -precipitate 
was their flight, that several dead and wounded were 
left upon the ground. 

In this affair, two soldiers who had ventured out- 
side the fortifications, were killed. Talcott did 
not pursue the Indians after they had taken refuge 
in the woods ; and his failing so to do, afterwards 
subjected him to severe censure. Yet the propriety 
of pursuing seven hundred Indians through the woods 
with cavalry may admit of question. Talcott was 
a prudent as well as brave commander. " He cer- 
tainly (says an able historian) was a successful one." 
It was a venturous enterprise to pursue an Indian 
enemy on horseback through the w r oods. Probably 
he judged rightly ; he had saved the town and gained 
his principal object, and his whole force might have 
been exposed to the danger of destruction in the 
pursuit." 



218 



king Philip's war. 



Meanwhile the Massachusetts forces under Hench- 
man had marched (May 30) to Brookfield. On their 
way, a Natick Indian named Tom Doublett, dis- 
covered a track of the enemy, and following it, con- 
ducted the soldiers to a party who were at that time 
fishing in the Weshacom ponds, near Lancaster 
Thus quietly engaged, they anticipated no enemy, 
and were prepared for none. The captain attacked 
them suddenly and dispersed the whole party, killing 
seven, and capturing twenty nine, mostly women and 
children. 

On arriving at Brookfield, Henchman learned that 
the Connecticut troops had preceded him ; but he 
joined them at Hadley immediately after the Indians 
had assaulted that place. The united forces then 
scoured both sides of the Connecticut, from Hadley 
to North field, but without encountering a single In- 
dian. The body of Captain Turner was found and 
buried; and after seizing some fish and household 
goods, which had been hidden by the enemy, the 
soldiers returned to Hadley. 

Hearing no more of the Indians in this neighbour- 
hood, the forces of the two colonies divided, each 
directing its march homeward. Henchman on his 
way to Boston divided his forces, and scouring the 
country in several directions, seized some provisions, 
killed five Indians, and captured eleven, of whom 
two were put to death. The remainder being wo- 
men and children were carried to Boston. 

The condition of the Indians at this time appears 
to have been deplorable. Destitute of provisions, 



king philip's war. 



219 



deprived of the usual means of obtaining any, and 
hunted from place to place by large parties of well 
armed troops, they were in continual fear of being 
surprised and massacred or sold into slavery. They 
roamed from place to place either in quest of food, 
or to escape pursuit; and frequently one party spent 
the night on the same spot where another had slept 
the night before. Thus hunted from place to place, 
they became discouraged and weary of the war. 
Murmurings and dissensions increased to violent 
quarrels ; and the confederate tribes refused to assist 
each other longer, by making the war a common 
cause. The Indians of Deerneld declared that they 
had no cause of complaint against the colonists, and 
accused Philip of having drawn them into his quarrel 
by fraud. To the other misfortunes of the sachem, 
were thus added the accusations of those for whom 
he had fought, and frequently conquered. 

In this extremity he collected the remnant of the 
tribes which still remained faithful to him, then dwell- 
ing in the neighbourhood of the ocean, and retired 
with them to his own country. Of the remaining 
Indians, some went to the Merrimack, others to the 
Hudson. The tide of success was turning. Signs 
which could not be misinterpreted portended the fall 
of King Philip ; nor were his own eyes blinded that 
he could not see them. Yet his spirit could not be 
bent by misfortune ; and he mustered his few faith- 
ful followers on the spot where he had formerly en- 
joyed prosperity and happiness, to make the last 
effort against the encroachments of the white men. 




EXPEDITION OF MAJOR TALCOTT, AND TERMINATION OF 
THE WAR IN THE CONNECTICUT VALLEY. 

From the time when General Winslow wasted the 
Narragansett country, in the winter 1675 — 6, few 
events of interest had transpired in that country. 
The colonial troops had been withdrawn, and the re- 
gion through which they marched was sad and deso- 
late as a desert. But when the misfortunes of the 
Indians in other quarters had deprived them of their 
homes, they resorted in great numbers to Narragan- 
sett, carrying with them their women and children, 
and sheltering themselves as much as the nature of 
the country permitted. Yet, although they remained 
quiet, they did not escape the observation of the 
colonists; and their destruction had been resolved 
upon even before the events narrated in the last 
chapter had transpired. 

(220) 



king Philip's war. 22] 

Talcott was not backward in executing the wishes 
of his government. Before commencing his march 
for the Nipmuck country, he had left a small force 
to garrison the towns near Narragansett. The men 
appear to have been instructed to harass the Indians, 
for during the major's absence they made two expe- 
ditions into the territory, killing thirty men, and 
capturing forty-five women and children. 

When Talcott returned he resolved on following up 
the success already gained. On the 2d of July, he 
marched for Narragansett at the head of three hun- 
dred English soldiers and some friendly Indians, and 
accompanied by Captains Dennison and Newberry. 
All his men were mounted except the Indians, 
Scouts were sent in advance, who on ascending a 
hill, discovered an encampment of the enemy beside 
a swamp which skirted the valley. They were the 
people of Magnus or Old Queen, a noted female 
sachem whom the colonists had formerly endeavoured 
to enlist in their favour. 

On receiving this information, and ascertaining 
that the Indians w T ere in no great force, Talcott re- 
solved to surprise them. Dividing his squadron into 
two portions, he directed each to ride round the hill 
in opposite directions so as to attack the camp on 
both sides at once, while the Pequots and Mohegans, 
rushing down the hill took possession of the swamp. 
The plan was completely successful. The Indians, 
consisting mostly of women and children, and entirely 
unprepared for defence, made no resistance. Those 
who fled into the swamp w T ere captured or killed by 

T 2 



222 



king Philip's war. 



the Mohegans ; all who endeavoured to escape to the 
field were cut down by the horsemen. Newberry's 
company, dismounting, peuetrated into the swamp, 
and killed most of those who were attempting 'to 
escape. 

In this massacre, thirty-four Indian warriors were 
killed while attempting to escape, and ninety after 
the affair was over. None but the women and 
children were spared ; and the number of these was 
nearly one hundred and fifty. The old Queen was 
among the prisoners, having been captured in her 
wigwam. On returning home by way of Warwick 
Neck, Talcott killed eighteen more, and captured 
one hundred and nine. 

The Mohegans, elated by this success, requested 
Talcott to deliver one of the prisoners into their 
hands to torture. He consented, and a chief was se- 
lected who was known to have fought bravely against 
the colonists. He boasted of having shot nineteen, 
and charged his gun to shoot the twentieth, when a 
Mohegan, crossing in front of him, he was unwilling 
to lose so fair an opportunity, and killed him. Thus 
condemned by his own confession, he could not rea- 
sonably anticipate mercy ; and the circumstance of 
the Indian whom he had shot being a Mohegan, 
whetted the desire of his executioners for his punish- 
ment. 

They began by cutting one of his fingers round 
the joint and afterwards breaking it — an operation 
which was performed in succession upon all his fin- 
gers and toes. The prisoner remained unmoved, not 



king piiilip's war. 



223 



a tear swelling in his eye, nor a muscle exhibiting 
by spasmodic twisting, his feelings of agony. His 
enemies shouted and chattered round the stake, 
mocking his former boastings, and taunting him with 
jests and insults. He maintained, however, his 
stoical indifference; and when asked how he relished 
the torture, replied calmly, "that he liked it well, 
finding it as sweet as the English did their sugar." 
They then compelled him to dance and sing; and 
when he fell to the ground overcome by weariness 
and loss of blood, they broke the bones of his legs, 
and knocked out his brains. During the scene, 
Major Talcott and his men who stood by as wit- 
nesses, were affected even to tears. 

After allowing his troops a short period of repose, 
the major again marched northward, and crossing the 
Connecticut, stationed himself at Westfield. This 
small town, communicating on the east and south 
with the seat of war, and on the west with the coun- 
try on the Hudson, whither it was supposed many 
of the fugitives had gone, afforded excellent opportu- 
nities of harassing the enemy, and preventing all in- 
tercourse between them. Nor were the soldiers long 
inactive. A large number of Indians were discovered 
hurrying in confused flight from the Connecticut 
westward. Talcott immediately set his men in mo- 
tion. The march was more difficult than any ser- 
vice rendered by them since engaging in the war. 
Thick woods, barricaded with dense vines, brush- 
wood, and thorns, stretched at intervals across the 
road, while in other places, thick swamps, whose 



224 



king Philip's war. 



green and stagnant waters filled the atmosphere with 
pestilence, lay directly in the trail of the savages, 
and had to be crossed, though the foot and ancle 
sunk deep into the loathsome mass. The heat of the 
weather increased the fatigue of the march ; and the 
manoeuvres of the Indians to escape, added to the 
tediousness and suffering which the soldiers had 
found almost insupportable. 

Notwithstanding these difficulties, Talcott pressed 
onward until he came up with the enemy, posted on 
the west side of the Housatonick. It being evening, 
he restrained the ardour of his men, concealed them 
in the adjoining woods, and passed the night in si- 
lence. In the morning he formed his party in two 
divisions, one of which was ordered to cross the 
river at a suitable distance below the Indians, and 
'then marching up the bank to assail their rear. The 
other division by a similar movement in the opposite 
direction was to fall upon them in front. No move- 
ment had as yet been observed among the enemy, so 
that there appeared every probability of speedy and 
decisive success. The plan was, however, defeated, 
by an incident apparently trivial. An Indian, who 
either by design or accident, had awoke before his 
companions, left his wigwam and walked toward the 
river to fish. Before reaching the bank, he discovered 
the first division marching toward the encampment. 
Faithful to his tribe, he instantly gave the alarm ; but 
almost at the same moment he was shot dead. The 
slumbering warriors sprang to their feet, and a scene 
of confusion ensued which it is difficult to describe 



king philip's war. 



225 




FLIGHT OP THE INDIANS. 



or imagine. The second division, still on the east 
hank, mistook the report of the gun which had 
killed the Indian for the signal to fire, and poured 
among the bewildered savages, a volley which struck 
down indiscriminately, men, women, and children. 
The voices of the chiefs were heard, giving hurried 
orders to their people. The soldiers who had crossed, 
increased the rapidity of their march, hoping to 
arrive at the encampment in time to secure a great 
number of prisoners. But the other division bad 
not yet crossed ; they had received no orders to fire ; 
and amid the confusion caused by the frustration of 
the original plan, they were disappointed. Before 

15 



226 



king Philip's war. 



they reached the wigwams the Indians fled, leaving 
behind the dead and w T ounded, with their baggage, 
provisions, and arms. Talcott continued the pursuit 
without halting; but so great was the difficulty of 
penetrating the woods, that after marching for some 
distance, the men became discouraged, and the major 
returned to the encampment. 

In this affair forty-four of the Indians were killed 
or captured, of whom twenty-five were warriors. 
The remainder escaped, and joined themselves to the 
Mohegans of the Hudson. Talcott's loss was one 
Indian killed. 

With this battle terminated the war in the Con- 
necticut valley. In reviewing the page of disasters, 
which it had written in that then distant west, we 
become acquainted with, two facts. First, that the 
united councils of Massachusetts and Plymouth erred 
in sending their forces there in detail, thus affording 
large parties of Indians opportunities to surround 
successive handfuls of soldiers and massacre them 
with impunity ; and secondly, that the war in the 
Connecticut was finished through the vigorous ex- 
ertions of the Connecticut colony, w T hich through the 
war had not yet reached her firesides, voluntarily 
sent forth brave men, and in sufficient numbers, to 
turn the tide of success at once. This was the plan 
recommended by Church some months before, and 
rejected as impracticable. But for the error of the 
united colonies, the war in the west could have been 
ended in three months; but for the patriotism of 
Connecticut it might have raged another year. Tal- 



KING PHILIPS WAR. 



227 



colts' successes awakened the colonial governments 
to the inefficiency of the policy hitherto pursued ; 
they infused spirit into the councils and the people, 
and made men willing to engage in the war ; and 
they imparted to the subsequent movements, an 
energy, which when most needed, had been most 
wanting. 



MANY INDIANS SURRENDER — DEATH OF POMHAM. 



The successes of the Connecticut troops on the 
west increased the distress of the Indians, and the 
misery of their condition soon became known in the 
colonial councils. The occasion was seized by those 
bodies to invite the enemy to accept of peace ; and 
several proclamations to that effect were issued among 
the hostile tribes. The plan met with great success, 
for in a few days, one James, an Indian, who had 
formerly pursued the trade of a printer, surrendered 
himself, and was followed in a short time by two 
hundred men, women, and children. On the 6th of 
July, Sagamore Sam, of Nashaway, sent a flag to 
Boston, asking peace in the name of the Saviour. 
Sam had formerly been a praying Indian, but being 
provoked into hostilities, he joined Philip, and became 
one of his greatest warriors. He assisted at the 

(228) 



king philip's war. 



229 



burning of Lancaster, and on several other important 
occasions. But his means having become exhausted, 
he accepted the proffered mercy of the English; 
and in a pathetic letter, exhorted them to spare his 
warriors and the Indian women. The Massachusetts 
council replied : " That treacherous persons who be- 
gan the war, and those who had been barbarously 
bloody, must not expect to have their lives spared ; 
but those who have been drawn into the war and 
acting only as soldiers, submitting to be without 
arms, and to live quietly and peaceably for the fu- 
ture, shall have their lives spared." 

On the 27th of July, Sagamore John, with one 
hundred and eight of his people, delivered himself 
up to the council. John was a Nipmuck sachem, a 
sly, artful man, and one who made no hesitation to 
betray his tribe in order to save himself When 
Philip's affairs flourished, Sagamore John was the 
enemy of the whites, and the advocate of the war ; 
when the tide of success turned, his voice was 
loudest in denunciation of the Indian king, and .in 
advocating the propriety of peace. To save his 
head, he treacherously seized his fellow sachem, Ma- 
toonas, with his son, and delivered him to the English. 

Matoonas was also a Nipmuck. It was reported that 
one of his sons had, in 1671, murdered an English- 
man, and for this crime, real or imaginary, he was 
hanged, beheaded, and his head placed upon a pole, 
where it was to be seen six years afterward. Ac- 
cording to Hubbard, the father, who was an " old 
malicious villain," bore "an old grudge" against 



230 



king Philip's war. 



the colonists from that time forward; nor will this 
appear singular, if we consider, in connection w r ith 
the brutal execution, that the guilt of the young In- 
dian was not fully proven. Accordingly, when the 
war began, Matoonas committed the first hostile act 
against Massachusetts. For such a one, there was 
of course no room for mercy, and no sooner had he 
appeared before the council, than sentence of death 
was passed upon him. Sagamore John, as a further 
instance of his fidelity, begged that he might be the 
executioner of his former friend. The request was 
granted ; Matoonas was conducted to the common, 
bound to a tree, and shot ; and his head w r as after- 
wards raised upon a gallows opposite his son's. 
" Thus (says Dr. Mather) did the Lord retaliate upon 
him the innocent blood which he had shed; as he 
had done, so God requited him." 

Unfortunately for Sagamore John, he had begun 
to serve an inflexible master. Neither his fawning 
nor his ofiiciousness could make atonement for his 
former guilt. After betraying nearly two hundred 
of his helpless people ; after putting to death a man 
better and braver than himself; after resorting to 
every meanness and every artifice to save his worth- 
less life, he was ordered by the Massachusetts go- 
vernment to be executed. Fortunately for him the 
order was for some time delayed ; and as will be re- 
lated hereafter, he contrived to escape from his new 
friends. 

Two hundred miserable savages, weak through 
starvation, and almost naked, surrendered to the go- 



king philip's war. 



231 



vernor of Plymouth. Before the promised mercy 
could be extended toward them, it was necessary to 
ascertain if any of their number had been " barba- 
rously bloody." During the investigation, it was 
discovered that among them were some who had 
been engaged in the attack on Clark's garrison. 
They were hanged immediately. The others, dis- 
mayed at such a reception of their petition for peace, 
offered to conduct a party of soldiers to a place where 
twenty of their tribe were stationed. Eight white 
men and fourteen Indians being sent against them, 
captured the whole number. One of them, who, 
during the preceding year, had killed one of the 
colonists, was executed. 

About the same time a small party of soldiers 
and Indians, killed and captured seven of the enemy 
near Dedham. A Narragansett sachem was of the 
number. 

A more important affair took place on the 27th of 
July at Dedham. The country surrounding this 
town was admirably suited to the mode of warfare 
pursued by the Indians, and equally well adapted to 
concealment. The meadows, though supporting large 
herds of cattle, had not been cleared to any great 
extent. Beyond them was a continuous wilderness, 
which abounded in wolves and other wild animals ; 
and in various directions, thick swamps covered ex- 
tensive tracts of Land, and afforded excellent shelter 
for the enemy. 

In these woods and swamps the great chief Pom- 
ham, witlra few of his men, had been for some time 



232 



king Philip's war. 



secreted. Want of provisions and sickness among 
his men had prevented him from doing any mischief ; 
and in the last week of July, the authorities of Bos- 
ton received the welcome intelligence that he was 
44 almost starved." It was resolved to attack him 
without delay. Captain Hunting, with twenty-five 
soldiers and twenty Indians, marched for the Ded- 
ham woods, and succeeded in completely surprising 
him. Fifteen of his people were killed and thirty- 
live captured. Pomham was shot in the back, and 
unable to prevent the misery of his men, he crept 
under some bushes, whose leaves formed a sort of 
arbour. A soldier advanced to seize him. The sa- 
chem struck him a blow with his hatchet which 
stunned him, "and perhaps had slain the English- 
man, but God ordered it so that he had a sudden 
revival, and took courage and grappled w r ith him, and 
threw him under him, and others coming to his as- 
sistance, Pomham was soon despatched." Dr. Ma- 
ther spices the story of the sachem's death with 
epithets and variations of his own. " This Pomham, 
after he was wounded, so that he could not stand 
upon his legs, and was thought to have been dead, 
made a shift (as the soldiers were pursuing others) 
to crawl a little out of the way, but was found again, 
and when an Englishman drew near to him, though 
he could not stand, he did, like a beast in rage and 
revenge, get hold on the soldier's head, and had liked 
to have killed him, had not another come in to his 
help, and rescued him out of the enraged dying 
hands of that bloody barbarian." In Pomham's- 



king philip's war. 



235 



wigwams were found twelve pounds of powder, a 
number of kettles for cooking or holding food, and 
half a bushel of wampum-peag or Indian money. 
Among the captives was a son of Pomham, a beautiful 
and intelligent youth, whose countenance would 
have bespoke favour for him, had he not belonged to 
so bloody and barbarous an Indian as his father was." 
From this piece of information, we may safely infer, 
that the sins of the parent were visited in all haste 
upon his offspring. 

The death of Pomham was a severe loss to the 
Indians. He was sachem of Shawomet, the country 
where Old Queen or Magnus was killed. He was a 
man of powerful muscle ; so that in all the exercises 
mostly esteemed among savages, few would venture 
to contend with him. He was instigated by bribes 
and presents to take part in the dispute with the un- 
fortunate Miantonomo. When Philip's war oc- 
curred he joined the Wampanoags with alacrity, and 
was considered by the colonists next to Philip in au- 
thority and natural ability. He was in the battle at 
Turner's Falls on the Connecticut, and led the Indians 
while pursuing their assailants. As the government 
would show him no mercy, he appears to have adopted 
the resolution of Philip, never to be taken alive ; 
and hence the desperation with which he fought at 
Dedham. 

This treatment of captives must have deterred 
others from submitting, but for the destitute condi- 
tion in which they were placed. Their provisions 
having entirely failed, they roamed through the 



236 



king Philip's war. 



woods in small parties, searching for berries, and 
digging up the earth for roots and ground-nuts. 
Often they wandered two or three days without 
tasting food. Loathsome animals, toads, frogs, tor- 
toises, and foxes, were relished as a feast; and when 
even those could not be obtained, they peeled the 
soft inner bark from trees, and chewed it with greedi- 
ness. Sometimes the mother fell down in the thick 
woods with her babe, and expired ; while the famished 
crew whom she bad followed continued their wan- 
derings onward, expecting soon to share her fate. 

Under such circumstances, there was no room to 
doubt of the ultimate success of the colonists. Hi- 
therto Philip had fought to redress his grievances ; 
now the hard contest must be for life. His people 
beard the proclamations of mercy with gladness, 
and hastened to embrace the offered terms; but 
Philip and a few of his faithful friends, disdained to 
yield, resolved on prosecuting the war until death. 



PHILIP ATTACKS TAUNTON AND VISITS MOUNT HOPE, 

While numerous parties of the enemy were re- 
tiring to the remote tribes of Maine and New York, 
or seeking peace of the colonial governments, the 
latter were alarmed by a rumour that Philip was re- 
tiring toward Mount Hope. This information threw 
all the neighbouring towns into excitement, and mea- 
sures were immediately taken to drive him from his 
new position, or to capture him. 

It will be remembered that Captain Henchman, of 
Massachusetts, after exploring the Connecticut valley 
with Major Talcot, marched for Boston. On reach- 
ing Sunbury, nineteen miles from the capital, he re- 
ceived orders to detach two of his companies to join 
the Plymouth forces, under Major Bradford, who was 
then at Seekonk, and Captains Brattle and Mosely, 
the first with a company of horse, the other with 

(237) 



238 king philip's war. 

infantry. While this large force was mustering, in- 
formation was obtained that Philip was attended 
by but thirty men, so that strong hopes were enter- 
tained that he would be captured. 

In the midst of these preparations, some Indians 
approached the house of Mr. Willett at Swansey, 
and shot him as he stepped from his door. His head 
was cut off and carried away, but they left his body 
on the ground. A negro belonging to the house was 
taken prisoner, but after a short captivity escaped. 
He brought with him to the colony the unexpected 
information that Philip was planning an attack on 
Taunton. 

The town was immediately placed in a condition 
of defence. The attack took place on the ] 1th of 
July ; but so vigorously was Philip's small force re- 
sisted, that he retired with precipitation after burn- 
ing two houses. 

Although this attempt was unsuccessful, there is 
perhaps no circumstance of the war which more 
strongly exhibits the talents and indomitable resolu- 
tion of Philip. He was in the heart of his enemy's 
country. Companies well armed, and commanded by 
skilful officers, were searching for him in various di- 
rections. His men were half starved, and sure of a 
speedy and ignomonious death should they be taken 
in arms. Nor was it probable that he could escape his 
numerous pursuers, even should he prove successful. 
Under such circumstances, few leaders would have 
ventured a battle, even on the defensive ; yet Philip 
led his men to the assault of a large town. That he 



king philip's war. 



239 



failed was owing rather to accident than imperfection 
of his plan ; for had not government been warned in 
time by the fugitive negro, Taunton would have 
probably shared the fate of Lancaster. 

Meanwhile the colonial forces were actively en- 
gaged in pursuing Philip. A large party of Indians 
from Cape Cod joined in the pursuit, and though 
they failed in the main object, they succeeded in 
weakening the enemy by scattering his forces, and 
capturing small parties which they encountered in 
their route. Two companies alone succeeded in 
taking one hundred and fifty Indians without losing 
a man. 

Philip, however, eluded the vigilance of his pur- 
suers, and reached Mount Hope in safety. The 
motives which actuated the unfortunate chief to make 
so singular and dangerous a visit, are unknown. 
Was it that he felt a presentiment of his fate, and 
wished to gaze once more upon the scenes of his 
childhood ? Did he desire, in obedience to the cus- 
toms of his race, to cast the last stone upon the 
graves of his ancestors, and then flee away into the 
wilderness to be seen no more? Or did he then 
gather the broken remnant of his tribe around him, 
and pointing to the fields and hunting-grounds which 
once were his, bid them swear perpetual enmity to 
the strangers who had deprived him of them? 
Perhaps the deep curses of the red men, who w r ere 
already shrinking before the new civilization which 
had come from the east, arose from the chief and his 
band, as they leaned upon their muskets, and sur 



240 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



vejed in boding sadness the prosperous haunts of 
their enemies. And then the consciousness that 
Mount Hope was no longer his home ; that he was 
outlawed and hunted like the forest wolf ; and that 
in a few days more the partner of his sorrows and 
the son of his love might be in their hands, to whom 
mercy was a strange work — how must it have in- 
creased to agony and madness the lacerated feelings 
of this man of misfortunes'? 

It will be remembered that Mount Hope is situated 
on a peninsula, which is surrounded on all sides ex- 
cept the north by Narragansett Bay. As this nor- 
thern pass commanded the easiest way of escape, the 
government was eager to seize it, hoping thereby to 
capture or starve Philip at their leisure. Accordingly, 
horsemen were placed in all directions to guard the 
paths; scouts and spies explored the woods and 
morasses, and the entire infantry force, assisted by 
large parties of friendly Indians, were stationed in 
readiness to give battle, as soon as Philip would be 
driven by hunger to attempt an escape. But, not- 
withstanding the active search, no trace of him could 
be found, until a prisoner, probably to save his life, 
offered to guide the soldiers to his encampment. 

A party of infantry was immediately detached and 
placed under the command of Church, who, as will 
appear in the sequel, had recently received dis- 
tinguished marks of approbation from Plymouth. 
Following the guide through a dismal piece of coun- 
try, but with his customary prudence, Church reached 
the Indian wigwams. He found every thing in or- 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 241 

der — the few implements and household goods of 
the enemy inside their huts, and a kettle on the fire 
for the purpose of preparing food. But the inmates 
had fled ; and on the ground lay the dead bodies of 
those who had been slain in recent conflicts. Philip 
had again escaped to Pocasset on a log, while most 
of his men either crossed on rafts or by swimming. 
Bat the number of his men since he entered the 
Metapoiset neck had daily diminished, and every 
party of the soldiers captured one or more stragglers. 
Church before his return secured twenty. What 
disposition was made of the encampment we are not 
informed, but probably it was burned. 

Thus in a few days Philip had passed through a 
whole colony in arms, reached Mount Hope, en- 
camped there for a number of hours in defiance of 
his pursuers, who outnumbered him ten to one, and 
lastly escaped as he had done a year before, by cross- 
ing the river on logs. This visit forms a curious 
episode in the narrative of the war ; and when we 
consider that the chief could gain nothing by it, be- 
cause of all locations, Mount Hope was the least advan- 
tageous to his designs, our perplexity respecting the 
causes which resulted in the step increases. But if 
the expedition was useless, it afforded Philip an 
opportunity to display how masterly was his ac- 
quaintance with the art of Indian warfare. On the 
other hand, the omission of the colonial officers to 
station a guard on the opposite side of the river, as 
well as at the outlet of the neck, would be regarded 
as a blunder, if the possibility of such a disposition 

16 



242 



king Philip's war. 



of force in that quarter could be proved, more espe- 
cially as Philip had previously escaped in the same 
manner. But of the nature of the ground along the 
Narragansett shore at that period, we are not in- 
formed ; and most probably, judging from the previous 
movements of the force which had pursued Philip, 
so grave an error would not have been committed if 
troops could have been posted in that quarter. 

After his escape, Philip retired to a part of the 
neighbourhood where he hoped to be concealed, 
while Major Bradford, assembling his somewhat 
scattered forces, prepared for a vigorous pursuit. 



CAPTAIN CHURCH ENTERS THE SERVICE OF THE 
PLYMOUTH COLONY. 



While the Connecticut and Massachusetts troops 
were busily engaged in the western and central por- 
tions of the latter colony, the Plymouth government 
had been adopting measures to send such a force into 
the field as, it was believed, would terminate the war. 
On the 10th of June the court met, and passed several 
orders designed to regulate the soldiers already in ser- 
vice, and such as might afterwards be raised. These 
were, in substance, that the governor, or in his absence 
the deputy governor, or any two of his assistants, " upon 
any sudden exigency or emergent occasion, wherein 
no more of the council could be speedily convened, " 
might press, equip, and send out men, and furnish 
them with all " necessaries needful ;" that the commis- 
sioned officers of. every town, with the consent of a 



244 



king philip's war. 



majority of the town council, might " require any 
part or parties of their men, as a scout for the- disco- 
very and surprisal of the enemy, within or near the 
respective towns, as also for the relief of the neigh- 
bouring towns or plantations — and to press horses ;" 
that the officers and town councils of adjacent towns 
might, for their mutual defence, and the good of the 
whole neighbourhood, maintain a "standing scout," 
and those towns which failed to furnish their quota 
were to be fined five shillings for each deficient man ; 
that the parties which had agreed to " have their men 
in readiness, should, for neglecting to furnish them 
when occasion required, forfeit five shillings for each 
man; that for the better ordering of expeditions, 
the soldiers met together might choose one to take 
command of the whole, being one of the commissioned 
officers of the said towns, whom they shall readily 
obey as their commander-in-chief, who is hereby em- 
powered to act with the advice of his council and the 
commanders, and such other discreet men of his com- 
pany as he should see cause to advise with," at his 
discretion ; that every person refusing or neglecting 
" to attend the country's service," when " pressed by 
a constable, pressmaster, or their deputies, by order 
of any legal authority," should forfeit five pounds, 
"or in w T ant thereof shall be compelled to run the 
gauntlet, or both, as the transgression shall be cir- 
cumstanced" — five pounds more were to be forfeited 
if the "said delinquent neglected to declare his reso- 
lution definitely, so that another might be pressed in 
his stead ; that towns should make" a rate to pay all 



king philip's war. 



245 



their soldiers and officers which had been out on the 
country's service, from first to last their full due, in 
such specie as the last rate for their payment in part 
was ordered, unless any of them desire rather to stay 
to have it in land ; that those who refused or neglected 
to provide themselves with good and fixed arms fit for 
service, within one month, were liable to a "distress" 
for as much as would procure such arms for them, 
" and if the delinquents would not perform service 
with their guns when provided, the commissioned 
officers were to furnish them to such as would." 

These regulations may strike the reader as both 
v/eak and yet unnecessarily severe ; nor did the Ply- 
mouth colony, throughout the whole period of the 
war, display the wisdom necessary to its successful 
prosecution. Baylies, in his Memoir of the Plymouth 
Colony, gives the following summary of his opinion 
on the above orders : — 

" In this most disastrous and trying period, when 
the very existence of the colony was endangered, such 
were the measures adopted by the civil government. 

" When a savage enemy was lurking in the woods, 
and planting his deadly ambushes in the borders of 
the villages, when towns were in danger of the flames, 
and the lives of whole communities were dependent 
on the energy and the exertions of the soldiery, a sol- 
dier under such circumstances refusing to march at 
the command of his officer, and thus incurring the 
guilt of mutiny, was to be fined five shillings a- day, 
and in case of inability to pay, was to be ' laid neck 
and heels !' 

z2 



246 



king Philip's wa.r. 



"A citizen, unaccustomed to arms, or conscien- 
tiously scrupulous about engaging in war, refusing 
the requisition of a constable to go into service, was 
to be fined five pounds, or to 1 run the gauntlet/ or 
both ! 

" The soldiers going on an expedition were per- 
mitted to choose their commander, and the commander 
was permitted and advised to consult his soldiers as 
to the business of his command. Responsibility was 
destroyed, and under such circumstances, any attempt 
to enforce the rules of discipline would have been 
farcical. 

" The government would not assume the responsi- 
bility of providing means to pay the troops, but threw 
it on the towns, thus virtually acknowledging the 
termination of their own authority ; and to complete 
the tissue of absurdity, the soldiers were required to 
provide their own arms ! Surely there was a God 
above, and virtue in the people." 

During this June session of the Plymouth court, 
Church again makes his appearance as an actor in 
the eventful drama. " He had been treated (says the 
author last quoted) with ingratitude, insult, and 
neglect ; his advice was scorned, his services under- 
rated, and he was not even offered a command. His 
lofty spirit could not well brook such slights. He 
retired in disgust to his family. Despairing of ob- 
taining any employment from the government, he 
resumed the management of his own affairs, which 
had been neglected." 

Church, like most of the colonists, was a believer 



king piiilip's war. 



247 



in predestination, and referred every event, however 
slight, to the direct agency of Providence. The effect 
of this belief was exemplified at this time in a re- 
markable manner. While cutting a small stick with 
a knife, he cut off the top of his fore-finger, and made 
a deep gash in the second finger. This he regarded 
as a rebuke from heaven, for abandoning the cause 
of his country, and resolved to volunteer his services 
on any conditions to the government. Leaving his 
house, he sailed in a sloop to Sogkonesset, and rode 
thence to Plymouth. The court, notwithstanding 
their former injustice, welcomed him with cordiality. 
To their congratulations respecting his safety, he re- 
plied that " he had seen so many fires and smokes, 
toward their side of the country, since he left them, 
that he could scarce eat or sleep with any comfort, 
for fear they had all been destroyed. For all tra- 
velling was stopped, and no news had passed for a 
long time together." To his question as to the plan 
by which they purposed to carry on the war, they re- 
plied that they had resolved on raising two hun- 
dred soldiers, of whom one-third were to be Indians, 
and that they needed his assistance to raise them. 
This was in substance the plan he had recommended 
to them some time before, but which had then been 
rejected with contempt , and though the number of 
men was not so large as he had proposed, he cheer- 
fully accepted their invitation, and volunteered to 
repair to Rhode Island, " to see what he could muster 
there." Many of the people of Swansey and Dart- 
mouth, who had been driven from their homes, lived 



248 



king Philip's war. 



there without employment ; and upon most of these 
Church calculated in his estimate of the forces he 
could raise. 

Thus commissioned by government, he set out 
immediately on his return, taking the same road by 
which he came. At the Elizabeth island he engaged 
two Indians to paddle him in a canoe to Rhode 
Island. While they were doing so, a singular and 
important adventure occurred. In passing Saconet 
point, Church perceived some Indians on a rock, 
fishing. They belonged to the tribe of which Awash- 
onks was queen, and with which Church had long 
desired an interview, as he believed he could induce 
them to join the English. 

Accordingly, he bade the Indians in the canoe to 
paddle near enough to the rock, to enable him to 
call to them. They did so, and Church, after ex- 
horting them not to be afraid, told them that he 
wished to speak with them in a friendly manner, 
adding that if he could get a fair opportunity to 
discourse with them, he could draw them off from 
Philip, for he knew that they never heartily loved 
him. The Saconets called to him in answer, and 
made signs for the canoe to come ashore ; but when 
he approached they became frightened, and hid be- 
hind the rocks. In a short time they reappeared, 
and, by various signs and loud cries, asked him to 
come ashore, as they wanted to speak with him. 
When addressed by the Indians in the canoe, they 
replied that the noise made by the surf was so great, 
that nothing else could be heard. Church then made 




(249) 



king philip's war. 



251 



signs with his hands, for two of them to meet him on 
a part of the beach which he pointed out ; and two 
of them, running down from the rocks, reached the 
spot about the same time with the canoe. One of 
them, who carried a spear, laid it down at some dis- 
tance, by request of Mr. Church, and the latter, hav- 
ing pulled the boat on shore, and stationed a sentinel 
to guard against treachery, sat down to converse with 
the Saconets. 

In every measure which this man proposed, he 
seemed to be favoured, sooner or later, by special 
good fortune. It was so on this occasion. In order 
to succeed in detaching Awashonks from Philip's 
cause, it was necessary that he should gain the favour 
of some of her people; and one of the two with 
whom he now sat down to converse was "honest 
George," — one of those w T hom the queen had sent the 
year before to invite him to her dance, and who, after 
the ceremony, escorted him to his house. As he un- 
derstood English well, Church asked him where 
Awashonks was; to which the Indian replied, " In a 
swamp about three miles off/' On being questioned 
as to the reason of his inviting them on shore, he 
answered, that he recognized Church by his voice, 
and was glad to see him alive — adding that he be- 
lieved his mistress would rejoice to have an opportu- 
nity of speaking with him. He also gave the im- 
portant information, that she was discontented at the 
long continuance of the war, and had abandoned 
Philip's cause with a determination not to join him 
again. In conclusion, he begged Church to remain, 



252 



king Philip's war. 



while he ran to call her. This Church refused to 
do, being apprehensive that the Mount Hope or Po- 
casset Indians might surprise and kill him ; but he 
promised to return in a short time, and hold a talk 
with Awashonks and her chief men. They parted in 
the most friendly manner, and Church pursued his 
journey to Newport. 



church's visit to the saconets. 



When Church parted from the two Indians at 
Saconet point, he requested them to notify Awashonks. 
her son Peter, her chief captain, and a certain Nom- 
pash Indian, that he would meet them in two days, 
near a rock at the lower end of Richmond's farm, 
which was a little north of the point where they then, 
were. Should the day prove stormy, he engaged to 
come on the first clear day afterwards ; and it was dis- 
tinctly understood that none were to come, except 
those which have been mentioned by name. 

But there were more difficulties in the way of the 
proposed interview than Church had anticipated. 
On reaching Newport, he informed the authori- 
ties of the disposition manifested by the Saconets, 
and requested that one Daniel Wilcox, who well 
understood the Indian language, might accompany 
him in his proposed journey to the queen. They re- 
plied that he must be mad, utterly refusing to grant 

Y (253) 



254 



king philip's war. 



him permission, and endeavouring to dissuade him 
from his purpose. " The rogues (they added) would 
as certainly kill him, as ever he went over." 

This was a disappointment indeed ; but the mind 
of Church was gifted with an elasticity which buoyed 
it up the stronger when the pressure of outward cir- 
cumstances was greatest. He replied to these af- 
frighted men that he had long sought an opportunity 
to discourse with the Saconet Indians, well convinced 
that he could induce them to espouse the cause of 
the colonists ; that so favourable an opportunity should 
not be neglected, and that he merely requested their 
permission and an interpreter. They would grant 
neither ; and, disgusted with such timidity in rulers 
of the colony, he declared that he would go, if it were 
only in company with the two Indians who had row r ed 
his canoe. They answered that they were sorry to 
see him so resolute, for if he went they never ex- 
pected to see his face again. 

Church's parting with his wife was far more try- 
ing. Amid narratives of butchery and devastation, 
of which this war furnishes a full proportion, it is 
pleasing to glance aside, even at long measured inter- 
vals, at some scene of domestic affection. " He used 
such arguments with his tender, and now almost 
heart-broken wife, from the experience of former 
preservations, and the prospect of the great service 
he might do, (might it please God to succeed his de- 
sign, &c.,) that he obtained her consent to his attempt, 
and committing her, the babes, and himself, to hea- 
ven's protection, he set out." 



king philip's war. 



255 



To gain the good will of the Indians more effectu- 
ally, he took with him a bottle of rum, and a small 
roll of tobacco, and accompanied by his servant and 
the two Indians, whom he had brought from the 
Elizabeth islands, they sailed in two canoes for Rich- 
mond's farm. On approaching the place he perceived 
some Indians waiting on the bank for his appearing, 
and sent one of his men to ascertain if there were 
more than the number appointed to meet him. Un- 
derstanding that this was the case, he followed, leav- 
ing one canoe in readiness to retire to Rhode Island 
and give the alarm, should the Saconets prove 
treacherous. 

Church was conducted to shore by honest George. 
To his question if Awashonks and the others were 
there, George answered in the affirmative ; but when 
asked to tell if more had come than had been named, 
he would return no direct answer. This circumstance 
appeared ominous, but Church proceeded with him 
to the place of meeting. 

No sooner had he landed than Awashonks, Peter, 
Nompash, and the chief captain, made their appear- 
ance, and seizing his hand expressed their gladness 
at meeting him, and thanked him for the confidence 
he had displayed in their good faith, by exposing 
himself to the danger of crossing to their island. 
But as they were preparing to set down, at a con- 
venient spot, some distance from the water, a number 
of Indians sprang up in the high grass, which had 
before entirely concealed them. They were com- 
pletely armed with guns, spears, and hatchets ; their 



256 



king philip's war. 



hair w r as decorated in fantastic fashions, and their 
faces were painted, as though in preparation for war. 
Before Church had time to inquire into the cause of 
so unwelcome an apparition, they surrounded the little 
party, and began to look "surly." 

His situation was most critical. The fact of the 
Saconets being then present afforded room for un- 
comfortable inferences ; and their appearance, the 
opposite of friendship, confirmed them. The reader of 
American colonial history may perhaps be reminded, 
by the similarity of situation, of Captain Smith's ad- 
venture in Virginia, and of the ingenious stratagem 
resorted to by him to save his life. Church had no 
compass in his pocket, nor any other article which 
might amuse the ignorance of his 
antagonists, but he was not be- 
hind the Virginia hero, either 
in presence of mind, or in in- 
genuity. After a short period 
of profound silence, he addressed 
the queen in a calm voice, stat- 
ing that he had been informed 
by George, that she had desired 
to converse with him, prepara- 
tory to making peace. She re- 
plied in the affirmative. Church 
then intimated that it was cus- 
tomary, when people met to talk of peace, to lay 
aside their arms, instead of appearing in the hostile 
array which he saw around him, and requested her 
to command her people so to do. 




HONEST GEOKOE. 



These words dis- 



king Philip's war. 



257 



pleased the warriors, and darting fierce glances at the 
speaker, they began to clash their hatchets, while a 
loud murmur ran completely around the circle. 
Church expected an attack ; and the queen, in great 
haste, asked him what arms they should lay down, 
and where. Knowing that if he asked them to dis- 
pense with all, it w T ould but exasperate them further, 
he answered, " Only their guns, at some small dis- 
tance, for formality's sake." This modest request 
was highly pleasing to them ; and after complying 
they seated themselves on the ground to listen to the 
deliberations. 

To prepare the way for such important business 
still more effectually, Church drew from his pocket 
a hollow calabash, which served him as a cup, and 
* asked Awashonks if she had forgotten how to drink 
rum. Instead of receiving it, she watched closely 
while he drank first, being suspicious that he in- 
tended to poison her. Church was obliged to drink 
a second, and, observing her uneasiness, he poured 
some of the rum into the palm of his hand, and 
sipped it before her. Perceiving that she was still 
suspicious, he " took the shell and drank to her again, 
and drank a good swig, which indeed was no more 
than he needed." After such an example, the queen 
delayed no longer, but taking " a good, hearty dram," 
passed it to her attendants. Church then produced 
his tobacco, and distributed it among the hungry 
councillors. 

All the arrangements for the talk being thus satis- 
factorily completed, it was opened by Awashonks, 

17 



258 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



who demanded of Church why he had not been to 
Saconet before, according to the promise made by 
him more than a year since, and adding that if he 
had come then, according to his promise, the tribe 
would, probably, have remained faithful to the Eng- 
lish. In reply he reminded her that the sudden com- 
mencement of the war had prevented him ; and that 
afterwards, when on his way, he was attacked by a 
large party of Indians at Pocasset, and obliged to fight 
a whole afternoon. 

Scarcely were these words uttered, w T hen the war- 
riors sprang to their feet, and uttered shouts which 
were echoed from rock to rock of the island. Swords, 
knives, spears, and hatchets, were brandished in the 
air, and the din of confused voices, half choaked with 
anger, precluded the possibility of being heard. 
Amid the uproar, a stout savage seized a tomahawk, 
and ran with threatening gestures towards Church ; 
others, fearful of the consequences, seized their com- 
panion by the arms. The interpreter asked Church 
" if he knew what that big fellow they had hold of 
said ?" Church answered that he did not. " He says, 
(continued the other,) that you killed his brother at 
Pocasset, and therefore he thirsts for your blood." 
This was not agreeable information ; but Church in- 
structed the interpreter to reply, that the Indian's 
brother began first; and that, if he had remained with 
his queen and people at Saconet, as had been re- 
quested of the whole tribe, he would not have been 
injured. 

The firmness of Church on this trying occasion 



king philip's war. 



259 



appears to have had a powerful effect upon the In- 
dians, and no doubt saved his life. The least un- 
guarded expression, the least act of rashness or 
timidity, would most probably have insured his de- 
struction. But prudence and calm intrepidity, in 
the midst of danger, commands the admiration of 
brave men, whether civilized or savage ; and the fierce 
outbreak of feeling which succeeded the annuncia- 
tion of the affair at Pocasset soon subsided ; the danc- 
ing and shouting ceased, and order was in a great 
measure restored. The chief captain then arose, and' 
after enjoining silence, told the warriors that they 
must talk no more about past hostilities, but of peace. 
When they were again seated, Church asked on what 
terms they would break their league with Philip, 
stating that though he was not authorized to con- 
elude a treaty with them, yet he knew that, if their 
proposals were reasonable, his govern merit would ap- 
prove them. He promised to use his influence in 
their behalf, and by way of encouragement reminded 
them, that though the Pequots had once made war 
against the colonists, yet by submitting to them they 
had gained their protection against their old enemies 
the Narragansetts. After "some further discourse 
and debate," he induced them to consent "that if 
the government of Plymouth would firmly engage to 
them, that they and all of them, and their wives and 
children, should have their lives spared, and none of 
them be transported out of the country, they would 
subject themselves to them, and serve them in what 
they were able." On hearing this, Church assured 



260 



king Philip's war. 



them of his conviction that the Plymouth government 
would readily concur in what they proposed, express- 
ing at the same time his pleasure at this renewal of 
their former friendship. 

The chief captain then arose, and after returning 
Church's congratulations, and expressing the high 
respect he entertained for him, offered himself and 
his men for active service against the enemy, and 
promised that, if Church would lead them, they would 
"help him to Philip's head before the Indian corn 
be ripe." To these sentiments the others assented, 
telling Church that they loved him, and were willing 
to accompany him and fight for him, so long as the 
English had an enemy in the field. He assured them 
that he would be a friend to them and their children 
- — a promise which was kept for many years. 

In order to have this informal treaty ratified as soon 
as possible, Church proposed that five of their num- 
ber should accompany him to Plymouth. Five were 
chosen ; but as Church wished to go the whole dis- 
tance through the woods, they objected, alleging that 
the hostile Indians might kill him, and so frustrate 
the whole design. It was finally agreed that he 
should come in a vessel to Saconet point, where he 
would take them on board, and sail thence to Sand- 
wich. 

The affair being placed in this prosperous situation, 
Church returned to Rhode Island for the purpose of 
hiring a vessel. But this was almost as difficult as 
obtaining the permit from the authorities had formerly 
been. Some with whom he had bargained disap- 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



261 



pointed him, apparently out of envy or malice ; some 
were terrified at the idea of touching at a shore where 
Indians lived, stoutly maintaining that their promises 
of friendship could not be relied upon. When the 
weather was stormy this was alleged as an additional 
reason why so rash an enterprise should not be un- 
dertaken. 

Under these circumstances the whole design would 
perhaps have been frustrated but for the timely and 
unexpected assistance of a stranger. Captain Anthony 
Low, of Swansey, touched at Newport on his way 
westward. On hearing of Church's design, he in- 
stantly volunteered, notwithstanding there was a full 
cargo on board, to carry Church to Saconet, and 
thence with the Indians to Sandwich — " being so 
pleased with the business he was engaged in, that 
he would run the venture of his vessel and cargo to 
wait upon him." On the fol- 
lowing morning they reached 
Saconet; but in consequence 
of high winds and a heavy 
sea, none of the Indians ex- 
cept Peter could get on board ; 
and the vessel, unable to pur- 
sue its voyage, was driven back 
to Newport. Here Church 
took leave of the generous cap- 
tain, telling him that, "inas- 
much as Providence opposed 
his going by water," he would wait for "the army," 
which was expected within a few days. 




262 



king Philip's war. 



Church was fully aware of the danger of failing to 
obtain the approbation of the Plymouth authorities to 
the measures he had been pursuing. He therefore 
wrote a detailed account of his transactions with the 
Saconets, and despatched Peter with them to Ply- 
mouth, "that his honour, the governor, if he saw 
cause, might sign them." This messenger was in- 
structed to take with him, if he could persuade them, 
those of his countrymen who were to have accompa- 
nied Church in his voyage to Sandwich. 



church's treaty with awashonks, queen of 
the saconets 

The great army expected about this time at New- 
port, was no other than Major Bradford's troops, from 
whom Philip escaped at Pocasset. News of its near 
approach spread rapidly over the island, and filled the 
inhabitants with rejoicing. Old men were proud that 
their country could muster such a host of warriors ; 
younger spirits felt their hearts beat with ambitious 
hope, that perhaps they might emulate the deeds of 
their companions in arms. Rumour had rendered it 
certain that such a force was never before seen in 
New England ; and scouts were employed to watch 
for its appearing, so that, being notified in time, the 
entire population might turn out to welcome their de- 
fenders. As if to add to the general anxiety, the time 
appointed for the coming of the army expired without 

(263) 



264 



king Philip's war. 



their appearing, so that, as Church expresses it, 
"there was great looking for them.' , 

Church was by no means free from this contagion 
of impatience. The day after he had despatched 
Peter to Plymouth, he rode with his wife and some 
friends to Portsmouth, in the north of Rhode Island, 
under pretence of cherrying, but really for the pur- 
pose of gaining intelligence of the armjr. He re- 
turned home disappointed. But at midnight a cry 
was heard that the major, with his whole force, was 
at Pocasset ; an express to Church confirmed the re- 
port; and that individual repaired forthwith (July 11) 
to the camp. He informed Bradford of his proceed- 
ings with the Saconets, and obtained his permission 
to visit Awashonks on the following morning, in order * 
to let her know that the army had arrived. 

Accordingly next day we find Church once more 
among the Saconets. He informed the queen that 
the major, with a great army, was at Pocasset, and 
that he had been apprised of the amicable arrange- 
ments previously made, but that neither she nor her 
people had cause to fear, provided they w T ere orderly 
and abstained from improper words and actions. He 
requested her especially to call her people dowm into 
the neck, lest being found straggling about, " mis- 
chief would light on them;" and that on the morrow 
he would again visit her, w T hen she might expect fur- 
ther orders. The queen was probably not so over- 
joyed at this news as Church appeared to be ; yet 
she promised to get as many of her people together as 
possible, at the same time desiring Church to consider 



king philip's war. 



265 



how difficult it would be to collect them all on so 
short a warning. 

Next day (July 13) the army was put in motion, 
while Church visited Awashonks to invite her to the 
camp. On the way he met with a Pocasset Indian, 
who, having killed a cow, was carrying a quarter of 
her on his back, and the tongue in his pocket. Being 
seized and examined, he informed them that he came 
from Pocasset two days before, with his mother and 
several other Indians, who were hid in a swamp near 
Nonquid. He was sent to Major Bradford. 

Awashonks complied with the invitation ; and by 
noon of the following day, she reached the colonial 
camp, accompanied by most of her people. Church 
then volunteered to serve under the major, provided 
he should be authorized to employ the Saconets. 
That officer treated the proposal with contempt, an- 
swering Church that his orders were to engage him 
if he thought fit, but as to the Indians he would have 
nothing to do with them. Not satisfied with this un- 
grateful language to the man who had done so much 
more than himself, he immediately issued orders for 
Awashonks, and all her subjects — men, women, and 
children — to repair to Sandwich, on Cape Cod, and 
be there on their peril, within six days. The Indian 
warriors were incensed at this command, and the 
queen, timid and vacillating as she was, complained 
to Church that their most solemn engagements were 
treated as false. Church could not prevent what he 
felt to be unjust ; and he exhorted Awashonks to obey 
orders, stating that, if he could not accompany them, 

24 Z 



266 king philips war. 

he would be at Sandwich before the end of the week, 
and was confident that the governor would commis- 
sion him to employ them. These words reassured 
her ; and the whole party were speedily sent away, 
under the care of an Indian named Jack Havens, who 
carried a white flag before them. 

Under guidance of Toby, the Pocasset whom 
Church had recently captured, the latter succeeded 
in taking that Indian's mother, and those who were 
with her. Next morning the army made a retro- 
grade movement to Pocasset ; but while it was pre- 
paring for a season of inactivity, Toby informed the 
major that about three hundred of his countrymen, 
including Wampanoags, Narragansetts, Weetamore's 
tribe, and others, had gone to Weepoiset to " eat 
clams," that being the only article of food they could 
obtain. Philip, he added, expected to join the party 
in a few days. As Bradford's troops were already 
embarked in boats, Church urged him to seize the 
favourable opportunity to attack this party, which 
would probably end the war. As the sun had set for 
some time, the fires around the enemy's wigwams 
could be plainly discerned, thus confirming Toby's 
report, and rendering it probable that Philip had ar- 
rived. Bradford, however, resisted all entreaty to 
attack the party, stating that he had orders to repair 
to Mount Hope, and fight the enemy there, and that 
he would permit nothing to divert him from his pur- 
pose. Whether or not he knew that Philip, with his 
men, had already fled from that place, we have at 
present no means of ascertaining with certainty ; the 



king Philip's war. 267 




CHURCH GOING TO PLYMOUTH. 



probability is, however, that he did. In either case 
he displayed profound ignorance of w T hat really con- 
stitutes military duty, and in a no less degree, haugh- 
tiness and cowardice. The army marched to Mount 
Hope, and finding no enemy, marched back again, 
and continued marching until it reached Rehoboth. 

At this place Church obtained the major's consent 
to meet the Saconet Indians at Sandwich, according- 
to his promise. Taking with him one Sabin, as a 
guide, he set out on horseback, on the evening of 
July 20, and reached Plymouth early next morning. 
Here Church had an interview with the governor and 
the treasurer, and a long conversation ensued con- 
cerning the Saconets. The governor, after thanking 
Church for his valuable services, informed him that 
he had received the letter sent with Peter, and had 
confirmed all that had been promised to Awashonks ; 
and on hearing of Church's desire to lead her people 
&rr „:„„i -du;k^ h e promised him a commission for that 



268 



king Philip's war. 



purpose. He likewise gave his consent for Church to 
set out on his visit to Sandwich that afternoon ; and 
six men, among whom was Mr. Jabez Rowland , son 
of one of the first settlers, volunteered to accompany 
him. 

This little party w T ere joined on the way by several 
persons, and reached Sandwich that night. Finding 
no Indians there, they proceeded next morning to 
Agawom, where all but half-a-dozen became discou- 
raged and abandoned the enterprise. On reaching 
Rochester River, Church left Howland and two others 
for a reserve, so that in case he should meet with an 
enemy and be driven back, they might assist him and 
his companions in getting over the river. After cross- 
ing another stream, Church and those w T ith him 
reached Buzzard's Bay, " where they might see many 
miles along shore wdiere were sands and flats." 

At this place they heard a loud and strange noise, 
which seemed to come from the shore. The grass 
and bushes w T ere too thick for the eye to penetrate, 
and, apprehensive of danger, they dismounted and 
crept cautiously among the bushes, until reaching the 
edge of a cliff, the cause of the tumult burst upon 
their sight. On a level part of the beach below, was 
a large company of Indians, of all ages, engaged in 
manly exercises. Some were racing on horseback, or 
on foot, some were at football, while others, more indus- 
trious, were catching eels and flat fish by the water's 
edge, or gathering clams. This sight, so unexpected, 
was the more perplexing to Church, as he could not 
tell whether they were friends or foes. He resolved at 



king piiilip's war. 



269 



length to call to them. Creeping to a thicket which 
was on a level with the beach, he soon made himself 
heard, and two young men, well mounted, galloped 
toward the place. When very near Church, they 
perceived him ; and, startled at the sight of armed 
white men, they were about fleeing in all haste, when 
Church announced his name, and assured them that 
they would receive no injury. After considerable 
hesitation they approached him, and one, who could 
speak English, informed the little party that the In- 
dians whom they saw were the Saconets, and that 
Awashonks and Jack Havens were among them. 
Church immediately requested the young man to 
inform the queen of his arrival, and to have Havens 
sent to him. That individual soon made his appear- 
ance, and in answer to the questions put to him, stated 
that he had been well used by the Saconets. At the 
same time a company of Indians, well armed and 
mounted, approached, but treated Church and his 
men with much respect. Jack was then despatched 
to inform Awashonks that Church and his party de- 
sired to sup with her that evening, and to pass the 
night in her camp. 

Before visiting her he repaired with his men, and 
a few Indians, to the place where Howland still re- 
mained with his companions. After informing him 
of his success, Church, with his small party, pro- 
ceeded to the Saconet camp. 

Church reached the hut assigned him by Awash- 
onks soon after sunset. The guests were conducted 
to a shelter open on one side, where the queen and 



270 



king phil:?'s war. 



her principal men soon joined them, and interchanged 
mutual congratulations. " The multitudes gave shouts 
as made the heavens to ring." At the same time 
young men came running from all directions, car- 
rying dry pine knots and other combustible matter, 
which they heaped into a large pile in front of 
Church's shelter. This was followed by the supper; 
and the description of this meal by no less a charac- 
ter than the distinguished guest who partook of it, is 
somewhat amusing : M A curious young bass in one 
dish, eels and flat fish in a second, and shell fish in 
a third ; but neither bread nor salt to be seen at 
table." Notwithstanding the latter deficiency, the 
Indians had certainly improved in gastronomy since 
Winslow's visit to Massascit. 

The supper finished, the Indians fired " the mighty 
pile of pine knots." As the season was the middle 
of July, it seems to have been fortunate for those not 
initiated into such rites, that the encampment was 
hard by the sea-shore. "When the immense bonfire 
was in full blaze, the queen, with the oldest and most 
honoured of her people, kneeled beside it, so that 
they all formed a ring ; the young warriors noted for 
strength or bravery, stood round in a second ring; 
"and then all the rabble, in a confused crew, sur- 
rounded on the outside." 

While Church and his men were in doubt as to 
the object of these preparations, the chief captain 
stepped into the space between the first circle and 
the fire, holding a spear in one hand, and a hatchet in 
the other. He began operations by a singular danoey 



king philip's war. 



271 



fighting the fire in the mean while with great fury. He 
then drew one firebrand after another from the flames, 
naming, at the same time, a tribe at war with the Eng- 
lish, and striking the brand representing that tribe with 
his hatchet. When he had finished, another chief 
took his place and repeated the ceremony, and he was 
in like manner followed by four or five others. While 
Church and his men were wondering at this novel 
ceremony, the chief captain stepped to the former, 
and informed him that they were "making soldiers" 
for the colonists, this being their manner of confirm- 
ing a treaty, instead of taking oaths, as was customary 
among the white people. Soon after Awashonks and 
her chiefs approached Church, and told him that 
now "they were all engaged to fight for the English, 
and that he might call forth all or any of them, at 
any time, as he saw occasion, to fight the enemy." 

Church accepted this offer with gladness, and se- 
lected on the spot a number to accompany him to 
Plymouth. He set out for that place early the fol 
lowing morning, and reached it the same day. Next 
day (July 23) Governor Winslow met him, and after 
expressing his approbation of his services, tendered 
him a commission as captain, with power to choose 
all the inferior officers. As this document authorized 
Church to act upon the plan which had formerly been 
rejected, it may not be uninteresting to quote it : 

"Captain Benjamin Church, you are ^hereby 
nominated, ordered, commissioned, and empowered to 
raise a company of volunteers of about two hundred 
men, English and Indians ; the English not exceed- 



272 



king Philip's war. 



ing the number of sixty, of which company, or so 
many of them as you can obtain, or shall see cause 
at present to improve, you are to take the command, 
conduct, and to lead them forth now and hereafter, 
at such time, and unto such places within this colony, 
or elsewhere within the confederate colonies, as you 
shall think fit ; to discover, pursue, fight, surprise, 
destroy, or subdue our Indian enemies, or any part 
or parties of them, that by the providence of God 
you may meet with, or them, or any of them, by 
treaty and composition to receive to mercy, if you see 
reason, (provided they be not murderous rogues, or 
such as have been principal actors in those villanies.) 
And forasmuch as your company may be uncertain, 
and the persons often changed, you are also hereby 
empowered with the advice of your company, to 
choose and commissionate a Lieutenant, and to es- 
tablish Sergeants and Corporals as you see cause. 
And you herein improving your best judgment and 
discretion, and utmost ability, faithfully to serve the 
interest of God, his Majesty's interest, and the inter- 
est of the colony ; and carefully governing your said 
company at home and abroad. These shall be unto 
you full and ample commission, warrant and dis- 
charge. Given under the publick seal, this 24th day 
of July, 1676." 

Thus, through Church's indefatigable exertions, an 
entire tribe had been detached from Philip, a large 
band of trusty warriors added to the colonial force, 
and new spirit imparted to those who were already 
in the field. The entire credit of this, and of the 



king philip's war. 



273 



subsequent successful movements, is due to Church, 
and to him alone, since from the period of the defec- 
tion of Awashonks, the war assumes rather the aspect 
of a pursuit of the fugitive sachem of Mount Hope, 
than of a regular campaign, in which the chances of 
loss and gain are equally balanced, or nearly so, be- 
tween the parties. 



DESOLATE CONDITION OF PHILIP. CHURCH CONDUCTS 
THE WAR. 



While attending to the important negotiations of 
Church with, the Saconet Indians, we have tempora- 
rily lost sight of Philip. We cannot return to the 
consideration of his movements at this time better 
than by quoting the remarks of Washington Irving 
in his Sketch Book, of the manner in which he re- 
garded the repeated defections of his followers. 

" However Philip had borne up against the com- 
plicated miseries and misfortunes that surrounded 
him, the treachery of his followers seemed to wring 
his heart and reduce him to despondency. It is 
said that ' he never rejoiced afterwards, nor had suc- 
cess in any of his designs.' The spring of hope was 
broken — the ardour of enterprise was extinguished — 
he looked around, and all was danger and darkness; 

(274) 



king Philip's war. 



275 




PHILIP'3 VISIT TO MOUNT HOPE. 



there was no eye to pity, nor any arm that could 
bring deliverance. With a scanty band of followers, 
who still remained true to his desperate fortunes, the 
unhappy Philip wandered back to the vicinity of 
Mount Hope, the ancient dwelling of his fathers. 
Here he lurked about, like a spectre, among the 
scenes of former power and prosperity, now bereft of 
home, of family, and friends. 

" Even in this last refuge of desperation and despair, 
a sullen grandeur gathers round his memory. We 
picture him to ourselves seated among his care-worn 
followers, brooding in silence over his blasted fortunes, 
and acquiring a savage sublimity from the wildness 
and dreariness of his lurking-place. Defeated, but 
not dismayed— crushed to the earth but not humili- 
ated—he seemed to grow more haughty beneath dis- 
aster, and to experience a fierce satisfaction in drain- 
ing the last dregs of bitterness. Little minds are 



76 



king philip's war. 



tamed and subdued by misfortune ; but great minds 
rise above it, 

" Such is the scanty story of the brave, but unfor- 
tunate King Philip; persecuted while living, slan- 
dered and dishonoured when dead. If, however, we 
consider even the prejudiced anecdotes furnished us 
by his enemies, we may perceive in them traces of 
amiable and lofty character sufficient to awaken sym- 
pathy for his fate and respect for his memory. We 
find that, amidst all the harassing cares and ferocious 
passions of constant warfare, he was alive to the softer 
feelings of connubial love and paternal tenderness, 
and to the generous sentiment of friendship. The 
captivity of his ' beloved wife and only son' are men- 
tioned with exultation as causing him poignant 
misery: the death of any dear friend is triumphantly 
recorded as a new blow on his sensibilities ; but the 
treachery and desertion of many of his followers, in 
whose affections he had confided, is said to have deso- 
lated his heart, and to have bereaved him of all far- 
ther comfort. He was a patriot attached to his native 
soil — a prince true to his subjects, and indignant of 
their wrongs — a soldier, daring in battle, firm in ad- 
versity, patient of fatigue, of hunger, of every variety 
of bodily suffering, and ready to perish in the cause 
he had espoused. Proud of heart, and with an un- 
tameable love of natural liberty, he preferred to enjoy 
it among the beasts of the forests or in the dismal 
and famished recesses of swamps and morasses, rather 
than bow his haughty spirit to submission, and live 
dependent and despised in the ease and luxury of the 



king philip's war. 277 

settlements. With heroic qualities and bold achieve- 
ments that would have graced a civilized warrior, 
and have rendered him the theme of the poet and the 
historian ; he lived a wanderer and a fugitive in his 
native land, and went down, like a lonely bark foun- 
dering amid darkness and tempest — without a pitying 
eye to weep his fall, or a friendly hand to record his 
struggle." 

The defection of Awashonks did indeed wring the 
heart of this unfortunate chief. It will be remem- 
bered that she was a near relative to him, and that he 
had made much exertion at the commencement of the 
war to keep her faithful to himself. The news of her 
defection fell upon his heart with stunning effect; 
and from that time he was never known to smile, 
nor to evince the least degree of pleasure. His fate 
stared him in the face, and all his friends appeared 
eager to join the enemy and fight against him. " It 
seemed as though his evil destiny had overtaken 
him, and that the day of his destruction was at hand, 
and that in future he was to be hunted through the 
woods like a wild beast, by open enemies and treach- 
erous friends." 

The desolate situation of Philip was well known 
to the colonists, and inspired them with strong hopes 
that he would soon be taken. "His ruin (says one 
of their writers) being thus gradually carried on, his 
misery was not prevented but augmented thereby; 
being himself made acquainted with the sense and 
experimental feeling of the captivity of his children, 
loss of friends, slaughter of his subjects, bereavement 

2 A 



278 



king philip's war. 



of all family relations, and being stripped of all out- 
ward comforts, before his own life should be taken 
away." These sentiments, worthy a Spanish inqui- 
sitor, were echoed by the government, the people, and 
the army ; and exertions were redoubled to capture 
the chief, or some of his near relatives. 

Church, on the same night in which he received 
his commission, marched for Middleborough, which 
he reached before daylight. This town is situated 
about fifteen miles from Plymouth ; and its numerous 
streams, well stored with excellent fish, and the abun- 
dance of game in the neighbouring woods, made it a 
favourite resort of the Indians during the summer. 
Before the arrival of the Pilgrims, thousands had 
made this delightful spot their home ; and here the 
" great plague" had committed fearful ravages. Win- 
slow and Hopkins, in passing through the adjoining 
territory on their visit to Massasoit, saw the bones of 
many who had died during this terrible visitation, 
lying still unburied ; and many years after Philip 
and his antagonists had passed away, the spade of the 
grave-digger or the labourer struck upon some Indian 
sepulchre, where some distinguished chief of an un- 
fortunate race slept his last sleep. When Philip was 
killed, the broken remnant of the tribes which had 
frequented the vicinity of Middleborough, journeyed 
to the north-east, and were lost among the inhabitants 
of that region. 

To this spot, so dear to all the neighbouring tribes, 
a number of Narragansetts and Wampanoags had re- 
sorted, as a last hiding-place. Driven from refuge 



KING THILIP'S WAR. 



279 



to refuge, they had at length sought this ancient 
hunting-ground of their fathers, fondly supposing that 
amid the stillness and the shadows of its deep forests, 
they could recruit their wasted strength, and be se- 
cure from pursuit by the white man. They were 
disappointed. 

At daylight on the 24th, Church reached the woods 
where the stragglers were concealed, and hiding his 
men amid some thickets, sent out a party of the 
friendly Indians to reconnoitre. They soon disco- 
vered the enemy, and " after well observing their fires 
and postures," reported their observations to the cap- 
tain. He immediately arranged his men so as to sur- 
round their fires ; and having succeeded in effecting 
this without being discovered, he presented so bold a 
front that the whole force of the enemy surrendered. 

The prisoners, being subjected to a strict examina- 
tion, informed Church that a body of their country- 
men were at Munpouset pond, in the town of Halifax. 
Encumbered with captives, he deemed it prudent, 
before marching against this second force, to repair 
to Plymouth, which he accordingly did, marching 
through the w r oods. Here he quickly disposed of all 
his prisoners, except one Jeffry, " who, proving very 
ingenuous and faithful to him, in informing him 
where other parcels of Indians harboured, Captain 
Church promised him, that if he continued to be faith- 
ful to him, he should not be sold out of the country, 
but should be his waiting man to take care of his 
horse, &c. — and accordingly he served him faithfully 
as long as he lived." 



280 



KING PHIL IP S WAR. 



The terms concluded with Church by the Plymouth 
government, at this time, have been justly denounced 
as hard and ungrateful. It claimed half the prisoners 
and arms taken, the other half to be distributed 
among the captain and his soldiers — the " loose plun- 
der" was to be the share of the friendly Indians ! 
Government, in return, engaged to furnish the am- 
munition and provisions. 

The prisoners being disposed of, Church marched 
to Halifax, and surprised the party on Munpouset 
pond so completely that not one escaped. In this 
manner he moved from place to place, during several 
weeks, alighting unexpectedly upon detached parties, 
and capturing, usually, their entire number. " When 
he wanted intelligence of their kenneling places," he 
scattered his company behind trees and bushes, and 
seized the first straggler who passed by. The cap- 
tive was speedily forced into an acknowledgment of 
all he knew respecting the force or locality of his 
comrades, and in a few hours afterwards the party 
would be surprised. 

The Plymouth government, observing Church's 
" extraordinary courage and conduct, and the success 
from heaven added to it," consented to enlarge his 
commission. Accordingly he was empowered to 
raise or dismiss men, as in his judgment the occasion 
required ; to commission officers ; to march any where 
within the limits of the three united colonies ; to give 
quarter or not, in battle ; to receive to mercy any In- * 
dians whom he chose, excepting " some particular and 
noted murderers, such as Philip, and those concerned 



king philip's war. 



281 



in the destruction of Clark's garrison." By receiving 
Indians to mercy, was meant sparing their lives that 
they might be shipped to the West Indies, where 
they would waste ten or twenty years in a living 
death. To what extent heaven "added" to this spe- 
cies of success, might perhaps puzzle a divine of the 
present age to determine. 

These powers were, however, of much importance, 
even to the Indians. Church was a humane man. 
What acts of cruelty or severity he had formerly 
committed, had been at the instigation of the gov- 
ernment, but, when their performance was left at his 
discretion, we find that he uniformly inclined to 
mercy. While other officers were as ferocious in 
council as they were timid and blundering in the 
field, Church alone demonstrated the only efficient 
method of combating the enemy, and the only Chris- 
tian method of using the prisoners. Like every other 
man who is in advance of his age, he incurred hatred 
and reproach, and was for a long while kept in the 
shade by those supple characters who, if occasion re- 
quire, find no difficulty in affirming that black is 
white, nor in strengthening the affirmation by oath. 
But his reward came at last; and the manner in which 
he exercised the powers granted to him by a jealous 
and parsimonious government, displays more clearly 
than even his former actions, the greatness of his 
mind, and the vast extent to which he surpassed his 
cotemporaries, in those qualities that secure universal 
esteem. 




CAPTAIN CHURCH'S EXPEDITION TO MATTAPOISET. 

The movements of Captain Church, from the time 
of his last visit to Awashonks, had been entirely inde- 
pendent of Major Bradford. That officer, with his 
army, had returned from Mount Hope, as already 
narrated, to Rehoboth ; and while Church was cap- 
turing numerous parties of Indians, in all directions, 
the major, with his whole army, marched from Reho- 
both to Taunton, a distance of about ten miles. Being 
more encumbered with baggage than prisoners, and 
likewise destitute of provisions, he applied to govern- 
ment for relief Some carts containing supplies were 
ordered to Taunton, and Church, with a small party, 
was named to conduct them. On the way, when near 
Nemasket, the captain encountered a considerable 
body of the enemy, and not having time to surround 
them, according to his usual fashion, he made a 

(282) 



king philip's war. 



283 



vigorous charge, and succeeded in capturing sixteen. 
They informed him that Tuspaquin, the friend of 
Philip, was at Assawomset, in Middleborough, with 
a numerous company. Anxious as was Church to 
improve so favourable an opportunity for capturing 
this great warrior, he could not desert the carts, 
without exposing them to imminent danger of attack. 

On reaching Taunton, Church ascertained that the 
major was at the tavern, and was invited to meet 
him at that place. This he refused to do, stating that 
by being hindered with the carts, he had already been 
prevented from "doing some service." He therefore 
begged that a guard might be appointed from the 
major's men, so as to set him at liberty. This was 
done, the carts were sent home, by the way of Bridge- 
water, and Church marched in search of Tuspaquin. 
He thus described his own operations in the history 
afterwards written by him, of Philip's war : — 

" Hastening back, he proposed to camp that night 
at Assawomset Neck. But as soon as they came to 
the river that runs into the great pond, through the 
thick swamp at the entering of the neck, the enemy 
fired upon them, but hurt not a man. Captain 
Church's Indians ran right into the swamp, and 
fired upon them, but it being in the dusk of the even- 
ing, the enemy made their escape in the thickets. 

" The captain then, moving about a mile into the 
neck, took the advantage of a small valley to feed his 
horses. Some held the horses by the bridles, the rest 
on the ground, looked sharp out for the enemy, [who 
were] within hearing on every side, and some were 



254 



king Philip's war. 



very near. But in the dead of the night the enemy 
being out of hearing, or still, Captain Church moved 
out of the neck (not the same way he came in. lest he 
should be ambuscaded) towards Cushnet, where all 
the houses were burnt. And crossing Cushnet River, 
being extremely fatigued with two nights' and one 
day's ramble without rest or sleep. And observing 
good forage for their horses, the captain concluded 
upon baiting and taking a nap. Setting six men 
to watch the passage of the river ; two to watch at a 
time, while the others slept, and so to take their turns, 
while the rest of the company went into a thicket to 
sleep under a guard of two sentinels more. But 
the whole company beino - very drowsy, soon forgot 
their danger, and were fast asleep, sentinels and all. 
The captain first awakes, looks up, and judges he had 
slept four hours : which being: lonsrer than he de- 
signed, immediately rouses his company, and sends 
awav a file to see what was become of the watch, at 
the passage of the river : but they no sooner opened 
the river in sight, but they discovered a company of 
the enemy viewing of their tracks, where they came 
into the neck. Captain Church, and those with him, 
soon dispersed into the brush, on each side of the 
wav, while the file sent got undiscovered to the pas- 
sage of the river, and found their watch all fast 
asleep. But these tidings thoroughly awakened the 
whole company 

" But the enemy giving them no present disturb- 
ance, they examined their [knapsacks,] and taking a 
little refreshment, the captain ordered one party to 



i 



king philip's war. 2S5 

guard the horses, and the other to scout, who soon 
met with a track, and following of it, they were 
brought to a small company of Indians, who proved 
to be Littleeyes, and family, and near relations, who 
were of Sogkonate, but had forsaken their country- 
men, upon their making peace with the English. 
Some of Captain Church's Indians asked him, if he 
did not know this fellow ? [and] told him, ' This is 
the rogue that would have killed you at Awashonks' 
dance.' And signified to him, that now he had an 
opportunity to be revenged on him. But the captain 
told them, [that] it was not Englishmen's fashion to 
seek revenge ; and that he should have the quarter 
the rest had. 

"Moving to the river side, they found an old canoe, 
with which the captain ordered Littleeyes and his 
company to be carried over to an island, telling him, 
[that] he would leave hi m on that island until he re- 
turned. And lest the English should light on them, 
and kill them, he would leave his cousin Lightfoot 
(whom the English knew to be their friend) to be his 
guard. Littleeyes expressed himself very thankful to 
the captain. 

" He leaving his orders with Lightfoot, returns to 
the river side, towards Ponaganset, to Russel's or- 
chard. [On] coming near the orchard they clapped 
into a thicket, and there lodged the rest of the night 
without any fire. And upon the morning light's ap- 
pearing, moved towards the orchard, [and] discovered 
some of the enemy, who had been there the day be- 
fore, and had beat down all the apples, and carried 



2S6 king philip's war. 

them away ; discovered also where they had lodged 
that night, and saw the ground, where they set their 
baskets,, [was] bloody; being, as they supposed, and 
as it was afterwards discovered. [ — ] with the flesh 
of swine. &e., which they had killed that day. They 
had lain under the fences without any fires, and 
seemed by the marks [which] they left behind them, 
to be very numerous ; perceived also by the dew on 
the grass, that they had not been long gone, and 
therefore, moved apace in pursuit of them. 

" Travelling three miles or more, they came into the 
conntry road where the tracks parted. One parcel 
steered towards the west end of the great cedar swamp, 
and the other to the east end. The captain halted, 
and told his Indian soldiers that they had heard, as 
well as he. what some men had said at Plymouth, 
about them, &c, ; that now was a good opportunity 
for each party to prove themselves. The track being 
divided, they should follow one and the English the 
other, being equal in number. The Indians declined 
the motion, and were not willing to move any where 
without him ; said, [that] they should not think them- 
selves safe without him. But the captain insisting 
upon it, they submitted. He gave the Indians their 
choice, to follow which track they pleased. They re- 
plied, that they were light and able to travel, there- 
fore, if he pleased, they would take the west track. 
And appointing the ruins of John Cook's house at 
Cushnet, for the place to meet at, each company set 
out briskly to try their fortunes. 

M Captain Church, with his English soldiers, fol- 



king piiilip's war. 



287 



lowed their track until they came near entering a miry 
swamp, when the captain heard a whistle in the rear ; 
(which was a note for a halt) looking behind him, he 
saw William Fobes start out of the company, and 
made towards him, who hastened to meet him as fast 
as he could. Fobes told him [that J they had disco- 
vered abundance of Indians, and if he pleased to go a 
few steps back, he might see them himself. He did 
so, and saw them across the swamp ; observing them, 
he perceived , [that] they were gathering whortleber- 
ries, and they had no apprehensions of their being so 
near-them. The captain supposed them to be chiefly 
women, and therefore calling one Mr. Dillano, who 
was acquainted with the ground, and the Indian lan- 
guage, and another named Mr. Barns. With these 
two men he takes right through the swamp, as fast- 
as he could, and orders the rest to hasten after them. 

" Captain Church with Dillano and Barns, having 
good horses, spurred on and were soon amongst the 
thickest of the Indians, and out of sight of their own 
men. Among the enemy was an Indian woman, who 
with her husband had been driven off from Rhode 
Island, notwithstanding they had a house upon Mr. 
Sanford's land, and had planted an orchard before 
the war ; yet the inhabitants would not be satisfied, 
till they were sent off. Captain Church with his 
family, living then at the said Sanford's, came ac- 
quainted with them, who thought it very hard to turn 
off such old quiet people. But in the end it proved 
a providence, and an advantage to him and his family, 
as you may see afterwards. 



288 



king philip's war. 



" This Indian woman knew Captain Church, and 
as soon as she knew him, held up both her hands, 
and came running towards them, crying aloud, 
' Church ! Church ! Church !' Captain Church bid 
her stop the rest of the Indians, and tell them, [that] 
the way to save their lives, was, not to run, but yield 
themselves prisoners, and he would not kill them." 
So with her help, and Dillano's, who could call to 
them in their own language, many of them stopped 
and surrendered themselves, others scampering and 
casting away their baskets, &c, betook themselves to 
the thickets ; but Captain Church being on horse- 
back, soon came up with them, and laid hold of a 
gun that was in the hand of one of the foremost of 
the company, pulled it from him, and told him he 
must go back. And when he had turned them, he 
began to look about him to see where he was, and 
what was become of his company ; hoping they might 
be as well employed as himself. But he could find 
none but Dillano, who was very busy gathering up 
prisoners. The captain drove his that he had stopped, 
to the rest ; inquiring of Dillano for their compairy, 
but could have no news of thern ; [and] moving 
back, picked up now and then a skulking prisoner 
by the way. 

" When they came near the place where they first 
started the Indians, they discovered their company 
standing in a body together, and had taken some few 
prisoners ; when they saw their captain they hastened 
to meet him. They told him [that] they found it 
difficult getting through the swamp, and neither seeing 



king philip's war. 



289 



nor hearing any thing of him, they concluded [that] 
the enemy had killed him, and were at a great loss 
what to do. 

" Having brought their prisoners together, they 
found [that] they had taken and killed sixty-six of 
the enemy. Captain Church then asked the old 
squaw, what company they belonged unto? She 
said [that] they belonged part to Philip, and part to 
Qunnappin and the Narragansett sachem ; discovered 
also upon her declaration, that both Philip and Qun- 
nappin were about two miles off, in the great cedar 
swamp. He inquired of her what company they had 
with them. She answered, " Abundance of Indians.' 7 
The swamp, she said, was full of Indians from one 
end unto the other, that were settled there ; [and] 
that there were near an hundred men, [who] came 
from the swamp with them, and left them upon that 
plain to gather whortleberries, and promised to call 
them as they came back out of Sconticut Neck, 
whither they went to kill cattle and horses for provi- 
sions for the company. 

" She perceiving Captain Church move towards 
the neck, told him, [that] if they went that way they 
would be killed. He asked her where about they 
crossed the river ? She pointed to the upper passing 
place. Upon which Captain Church passed over so 
low down, as he thought it not probable [that] they 
should meet with his track in their return, and has- 
tened towards the island, where he left Littleeyes 
with Lightfoot. Finding a convenient place by the 
river side for securing his prisoners, Captain Church 

19 



290 



king philip's war. 



and Mr. Dillano went down to see what was become 
of Captain Lightfoot, and the prisoners left in his 
charge. 

" Lightfoot seeing and knowing them, soon came 
over with his broken canoe, and informed them, that 
he had seen that day about one hundred men of the 
enemy go down into Sconticut Neck, and that they 
were now returning again. Upon which they three 
ran down immediately to a meadow where Lightfoot 
said [that] the Indians had passed, where they not 
only saw their tracks, but also them. Whereupon 
they lay close, until the enemy came into the said 
meadow, and the foremost set down his load, and 
halted until all the company came up, and then took 
up their loads and marched again the same way that 
they came down into the neck, which was the nearest 
way unto their camp. Had they gone the other way, 
along the river, they could, not have missed Captain 
Church's track, which would doubtless have exposed 
them to the loss of their prisoners, if not of their lives. 

"But as soon as the coast was clear of them, the 
captain sends his Lightfoot to fetch his prisoners 
from the island, while he and Mr. Dillano returned 
to the company ; sent part of them to conduct Light- 
foot and his company to the aforesaid meadow, where 
Captain Church and his company met them. Cross- 
ing the enemy's track, they made all haste until they 
got over Mattapoiset River, near about four miles 
beyond the ruins of Cook's house, where he appoint- 
ed to meet his Indian company, whither he sent Dil- 
lano with two more to meet them; ordering them 



king philip's war. 



291 



that if the Indians were not arrived to wait for 
them. 

" Accordingly, finding no Indians there, they waited 
■until late in the night, when they arrived with their 
booty. They despatched a post to their captain, to 
give him an account of their success, but the day 
broke before they came to him. And when they had 
compared successes, they very remarkably found that 
the number that each company had taken and slain 
w r as equal. The Indians had killed three of the 
enemy, and taken sixty- three prisoners, as the English 
had done before them. 

" Both the English and Indians were surprised at 
this remarkable providence, and were both parties 
rejoicing at it; being both before afraid of what 
might have been the unequal success of the parties. 
But the Indians had the fortune to take more arms 
than the English. 

" They told the captain, that they had missed a 
brave opportunity by parting ; [that] they came upon 
a great town of the enemy, viz., Captain Tyasks' 
company ; (Tyasks was the next man to Philip) that 
they fired upon the enemy before they were disco- 
vered, and ran upon them with a shout; [and] the 
men ran and left their wives and children, and many 
of them their guns. They took Tyasks' wife and son, 
and thought, that if their captain and the English 
company had been with them, they might have taken 
some hundreds of them ; and now they determined 
not to part any more." 

Notwithstanding this success, Church narrowly 



292 



king philip's war. 



escaped capture during his return from this expedi- 
tion. Philip, as was afterwards ascertained, placed a 
large force at the entrance of Assawomset Neck, so 
that the destruction of the daring partisan appeared 
inevitable. But one of Church's rules of action was, 
never to return the way by which he came ; and on 
this occasion, as on several previous ones, it saved 
him. Accordingly, on the following day he reached 
Plymouth, with his prisoners, in safety. 



PHILIP REPULSED FROM BRIDGE WATER. 



The success of Church in harassing the Indians, 
and in securing prisoners, greatly increased his popu- 
larity throughout the colony ; yet success and fame 
merely stimulated him to fresh exertions. For a 
number of days he continued to make incursions into 
the woods, surprising small parties, and securing a 
number, sometimes small, sometimes large, of prison- 
ers. By long intercourse with them he had gained 
a thorough knowledge of their wild but simple cha- 
racter, and his daring courage, habitual cheerfulness, 
and constant success, produced among his followers 
a sentiment like veneration. " Although (says Bay- 
lies) the temper of the Indian is gloomy, yet he is 
easily captivated by the vivacity of others, and hence 
the French have been more successful in gaining the 
hearts of these sons of the forest than any other Eu- 

2B 2 (293) 



294 



king Philip's war. 



ropeans. The fearless cheerfulness of Church, while 
encountering dangers of the most terrific character, 
and hardships which even they, accustomed as they 
were to woods, and swamps, and tempests, and sleep- 
less nights, and want of food, could scarcely endure, 
gave them an impression that he was invincible." 

Such were the traits of character which gave this 
man authority over the sons of the forest, and which 
formed the key to his astonishing success. His man- 
ner of enlisting the captive Indians for service was 
peculiar. From a number of prisoners he would 
select those that he " took a fancy to, and approach- 
ing them kindly, would tell them that he had chosen 
them to himself to make soldiers of; that if they 
would behave well, they should continue with him 
and not be sold out of the country. If they looked 
sad or surly, he encouraged them by- a few words, 
uttered in a cheerful tone, generally adding that when 
they had been with him one day, they would cease 
to think of their captivity, but would be as brisk as 
any of those around him. Thus encouraged, they 
soon became reconciled to their condition, or at least 
ceased to repine at their fate, when such discontent 
would most likely be construed into a pretext for 
transporting them. These unfortunate savages were 
compelled to guide the soldiers to the hiding-places 
of their friends and nearest relatives ; and thus many 
a son or brother became accessory to the captivity, 
death, or enslavement of a father or other relative. 

Meanwhile Philip, with the greater part of his 
force, was hemmed in between Taunton River and 



king piiilip's war. 



295 



Plymouth. The army of Major Bradford, at Taunton, 
prevented him from crossing the river, and the late 
successes of Church, in the southern part of the 
peninsula, had compelled him to move northward 
toward Bridgewater, thus circumscribing still more 
his field of operations. 

But Philip was not of a disposition to remain inac- 
tive, even though surrounded by a superior enemy. 
On Sunday, July 30, a messenger came in all haste 
to the governor of Plymouth, then at Marshfield, with 
information that the sachem was then in the act of 
crossing the river to attack, as was believed, both 
Taunton and Bridgewater. The governor hurried to 
Plymouth, engaging as many men as he could by the 
way. Church was attending morning service. He 
was instantly sent for, directed to raise as many men 
as he could, and to pursue Philip. Some friendly 
Indians were speedily collected; but when on the 
point of marching, it was ascertained that there was 
no bread in the stores. Church ran from house to 
house begging loaves of the women. By this means 
a small quantity was raised;* and in the afternoon the 
captain, with his little force, accompanied by the mes- 
senger as a guide, marched for Bridgewater. 

In the evening a rapid firing of musketry was 
heard at a distance, and Church directed his march 
towards it. Owing to the darkness he appears to have 
missed the proper direction, and, as the firing soon 
ceased, he continued his march to Bridgewater. 

Here the cause of the noise was revealed to him. 
Philip would have effected the passage of the river 



296 



king Philip's war. 



several hours before Church arrived, had not a party 
of the inhabitants of Bridgewater mustered to oppose 
him. The Indians had felled a large tree, the trunk 
of which, stretching across the stream, served for a 
bridge. Across this his men proposed to run, glad 
to escape from their straitened quarters ; but while a 
number were upon the log, and others preparing to 
follow, the inhabitants of Bridgewater, wholly con- 
cealed on the other side, swept the bridge with a 
heavy and well-directed fire of musketry. Several 
chiefs were killed, among whom was Akompoin, who 
fell, according to report, while standing beside Philip. 
Philip is believed to have disguised himself; for 
had he been recognized on that day, he would most 
probably have shared the fate of his companion. His 
design was, however, foiled — his men being driven 
back to the eastern bank of the river. 

The excitement in the town, during the night, was 
great. Many believed that Philip would yet effect a 
passage, and perhaps attack the town. Apprehension 
multiplied the number of the enemy ; so that even 
news of the success gained over them could not dissi- 
pate the terrors conjured up by the mere name of the 
"Wampanoag sachem. The arrival of Church was 
therefore most opportune ; and many a heart bounded 
with gratitude and exultation, at hearing that the 
famous partisan, who had opposed the Indian chief 
so successfully, was a guest of the town. 

It was well for the inhabitants of this small set- 
tlement that they possessed bravery and energy suf- 
ficient to second the plans of Church. Their aid in 



king philip's war. 



297 



this time of need came from themselves. Bradford, 
with a host sufficient to extirpate all the Indians from 
Cape Cod to the Connecticut, remained at Taunton 
doing nothing ; no other force was near ; and the men 
whom Church had brought with him were too few 
to attempt offensive operations with. Thus situated, 
the townsmen, instead of despairing, volunteered in 
great numbers to assist the captain in a pursuit of 
Philip ; and a plan was matured by which, on the fol- 
lowing day, it was hoped that the sachem would 
either be captured or killed. 



NARROW ESCAPE OF PHILIP. 



The feelings of the Indian chief, after this disap- 
pointment, must have been of the most acute nature 
Death stared him in the face — either a lingering death 
by starvation, or the more expeditious, but not less 
cruel one, of execution by torture. His plans were 
frustrated ; his purposes were broken ; the wiles of 
the white man had triumphed, and the wretched chief 
already saw, in the perspective, the destruction of his 
followers, and the ruin of his cause. 

A single anecdote shows how desolate must have 
been the sachem's feelings at this time. Early on 
the morning of the 31st, Church, with his own forces, 
and those of Bridge water, marched to the Taunton 
River. On reaching the scene of the previous day's 
battle, he perceived an Indian seated on a stump of 

(298) 



/ 




NARROW ESCAPE OF PHILIP. 



(300) 



king philip's war. 



301 



the tree, which still lay across the stream. Raising 
his gun, he took deliberate aim ; but, at the moment 
that his ringer touched the trigger, one of his Indians 
exclaimed that it was a friend. Church immediately 
lowered his gun, and the savage, hearing the noise, 
turned his head. It was Philip. Church immedi- 
ately raised his gun and fired. But it was too late. 
Philip threw himself off the log, and down the bank 
escaped. 

Church immediately crossed the log, and began a 
rapid pursuit. He was unable to overtake Philip or 
the Narragansetts, who scattered in every direction ; 
but he picked up a number of women and children, 
among whom were the sachem's wife and his son, a 
lad nine years old. Discovering a fresh track along 
the river, he examined the prisoners concerning it, 
and was informed that Quinnapin and the Narragan- 
setts had escaped in that direction. He inquired if 
Philip was with them. This they did not know, but 
said that he had fled hastily when the first English 
gun was fired, and had not since been seen. 

Church was aware of the importance of overtaking 
the enemy before they crossed into the Narragansett 
country. Leaving, therefore, a small party to guard 
the prisoners, he hastened on in the track, until he 
arrived at a place where the water was shallow the 
whole distance across. Here, to his mortification, he 
perceived that the Indians had crossed. But though 
covered with perspiration, he plunged into the stream, 
and waded across, followed by all his men. The 
pursuit was continued about a mile further, but with- 

2C 



302 



king Philip's war. 



out resulting in the capture, or even the discovery of 
the Indians. The captain then halted, being under 
the necessity of returning to the party remaining on 
the peninsula. The Indians, however, begged for 
permission to continue the pursuit, alleging that the 
Narragansetts were great rogues, and that they 
wished to be revenged on them for killing Toka- 
mona, the brother of Awashonks, and some others. 
Church, pleased with their zeal, gave his permission, 
appointing Lightfoot as their leader, with the title of 
captain. No sooner had they received his injunction 
to " go and prosper," than they set forward on a wild 
trot, and were soon out of sight. Of the particulars 
of this chase little is known. Early on the following 
morning, (August 1,) they returned to Church, and 
after informing him in breathless haste that they had 
overtaken the enemy, and killed several of them, they 
presented him with thirteen prisoners. " They were 
mighty proud of their exploit, (says Church,) and re- 
joiced much at the opportunity of avenging them- 
selves." 

In this affair, notwithstanding the close pursuit, 
most of Philip's warriors succeeded in escaping; 
yet how narrow was the escape is shown by the 
number of women and children left behind, among 
whom was the wife of Philip. The fall of the un- 
fortunate sachem was at hand ; and the few great 
efforts he yet made were but the convulsive throes 
of his death-struggle. Our interest in the drama in 
which he was the chief actor deepens as we ap- 
proach its close ; and few, perhaps, while they read 



king philip's war. 



303 



the remaining portion of the eventful story of King- 
Philip's war, will refuse a wish that he had at last 
escaped to die in peace with his fathers, or a tear over 
his untimely end. 



fate of Philip's wife and child. 



Let it not be supposed that because Philip's wife 
was taken he had deserted her. He w T as surprised 
when alone — mourning over the calamities of his 
tribe, unknowing where to go or what to do. At the 
report of Church's musket his people had scattered, 
and the chief, hurrying in their track, had no oppor- 
tunity to secure either wife or child. 

The manner in which the reverend authors of that 
day exult over the capture of these helpless depend- 
ants of a heart-broken enemy, is characteristic of the 
spirit with w T hich the colonists prosecuted this war. 
" Philip (says Mather) hardly escaped with his life 
also. He had fled and left his peage behind him ; 
also his squaw and his son were taken captive, and 
are now prisoners at Plymouth. Thus hath God 

1304) 



king philip's war. 



305 



brought that grand enemy into great misery, before 
he quite destroy him. It must needs be bitter as 
death to him, to lose his wife and only son, (for the 
Indians are marvellous fond and affectionate towards 
their children,) besides other relations, and almost all 
his subjects, and country also." 

And what were the feelings of the fugitive chief? 
" My heart breaks," were the mournful words that 
burst from his lips. It had been breaking since the 
treachery of Awashonks. 

The treatment which these two captives received 
forms a still sadder story. They were sent by Church 
to Bridgewater, and thence remanded to Plymouth. 
The council, overjoyed at the opportunity of making 
examples of individuals so conspicuous, took their 
case into special consideration. Though this occurred 
after the death of Philip, yet, to preserve the con- 
tinuity of narrative, the account of it may not be in- 
aptly introduced in this place. 

When the mother and her child were arraigned the 
war was over. Philip was dead ; the power of the 
New England tribes was gone for ever. Surely the 
victors could spare the helpless, those who had taken 
no part in the war except to suffer by it. Let us ob- 
serve what they did. 

Some clamoured for blood, as though they had 
anticipated the spirit of Jeffreys and the Bloody Cir- 
cuit. Hanging, shooting, beheading, were proposed. 
Court and people were in an uproar. They who 
suffered with Philip were pronounced guilty as those 
who fought for him. Fidelity in a woman, and in- 

20 



306 



king Philip's war. 



nocence in a child, were, in the eyes of a Plymouth 
assembly, deemed crimes worthy of death. 

A few proposed milder measures. It could not be 
maintained, they argued, that he who accompanies a 
murderer through force or necessity, was equally 
guilty with one who voluntarily accompanies him. 
If the mother and her boy had not engaged in hos- 
tilities, (of which proof appeared wanting,) they could 
scarcely be considered as capital offenders. During 
the war some captive Indians, who were in the same 
situation, had been induced to join the army against 
their countrymen, and proved efficient soldiers. 
Though this mode of retaliation could not be resorted 
to in the present case, both because the war being 
over there was no further need of Indian help, and 
the age and sex of the prisoners forbade it, yet it af- 
forded a precedent that every grade of crime should 
not be punished alike. What then was to be done 
with the prisoners ? Let their lives be spared, in the 
name of humanity ; but, being Indians, the stain of 
that guiltiness requires the court gravely to consider 
what punishment less than death can remove it. 
These few, therefore, proposed that the prisoners 
should be sold to the West Indies. 

The court was perplexed by the difference of opi- 
nion, in a case where unanimity had been expected, 
and where the proper mode of procedure appeared so 
clear. The parts of the dilemma became more en- 
tangled with each other, the longer it was in contem- 
plation. At length, despairing to gain a suitable de- 
cision — for the advocates of humanity, though few, 



king philip's war. 



307 



were firm — they referred the decision in the boy's 
case to the clergymen, they being considered the 
ablest casuists. Doubtless the first anxiety of the 
reader is to know who were intrusted with so import- 
ant a suit ; but, when the names of Increase Mather 
and Dr. Cotton are announced, the hopes of the In- 
dian's friend, like the heart of Philip, breaks. 

These men proceeded at once to a thorough in- 
vestigation of the subject — at least as thorough as 
the hunting of proofs to establish a preconceived opi- 
nion can be. Their authority was the Bible ; and 
their selections those passages in it where the sins 
of parents were visited upon children, and where 
Philistines, Ammonites, Agagites, were hewed in 
pieces before the Lord — including their children. 
From this species of evidence the decision respecting 
the son of a hostile Indian was short and summary. 
If Hainan's children were executed, why should not 
King Philip's suffer the same fate? If Saul's house 
was uprooted to make room for that of David, why 
should not Massasoit's, branch as well as root, that 
the anointed of the Lord might possess the land ? 
The voice of the ministers was therefore for death. 

Lest some may suppose that the above narrative, 
which ill accords with the spirit of true religion, is 
distorted or overcoloured, we insert the answers of the 
two Plymouth clergymen above named to the court. 
The first is from Mr. Cotton. 

"The question being propounded to us by our 
honourable rulers, whether Philip's son be a child of 
death ! our answer hereunto is, that we do acknow- 



308 



KING PHILIP'S WAR. 



ledge that rule, Deut. xxiv. 16, to be moral and there- 
fore perpetually binding, viz. in that particular act of 
wickedness though capital, the crime of the parent 
doth not render his child a subject to punishment by 
the civil magistrate; yet, upon serious consideration, 
we humbly conceive that the children of notorious 
traitors, rebels, and murtherers, especially such as 
have been principal leaders and actors in such horrid 
villanies, and that against a whole nation, yen, the 
whole Israel of God, may be involved in the guilt 
of their parents, and may, salva republica, be adjudged 
to death, as to us seems evident by the scripture in- 
cidents of Saul, Achan, Haman, the children of whom 
were cut off by the sword of justice for the trans- 
gressions of their parents, although, concerning some 
of those children it be manifest, that they were not 
capable of being coactors therein." 

This was signed by Samuel Arnold and John Cot- 
ton, and is dated September 7, 1676. Mather holds 
forth in a similar strain : 

" If it had not been out of my mind when I was 
writing, I should have said something about Philip's 
son. It is necessary that some effectual course should 
be taken about him. He makes me think of Hadad, 
who was a little child when his father (the chief 
sachem of the Edomites) was killed by Joab ; and, 
had not others fled away with him, I am apt to think 
that David would have taken a course, that Hadad 
should never have proved a scourge to the next 
generation." 

It is pleasing to find, amid these savage counsels, 



king Philip's war. 



309 



the testimony of Mr. Keith, "the good minister of 
Bridge water/' as the candid historian, Mr. Baylies, 
calls him. This man's opinion appears not to have 
been solicited ; but he expresses it in a private letter : 
" I long to hear what becomes of Philip's wife and 
son. I know there is some difficulty in that Psalm 
cxxxvii. 8, 9, though I think it may be considered 
whether there be not some specialty and something 
extraordinary in it. That law, Deut. xxiv. 16, com- 
pared with the commended example of Amasias, 
2 Chron. xxv. 4, doth sway much with me, in the 
case under consideration. I hope God will direct 
those whom it doth concern to a good issue. Let us 
join our prayers at the throne of grace with all our 
might, that the Lord would so dispose of all public 
motions and affairs, that his Jerusalem in this wil- 
derness, may be the habitation of justice and a moun- 
tain of holiness, that so it may be also a quiet habita- 
tion, a tabernacle which shall not be taken down." 

Sentiments like these were echoed by those who 
pitied the captives ; nor did it escape observation that 
on the side of mercy were arraigned some who had been 
the bravest officers of the war ; and at length, in spite 
of the opinion of the ministers and the desires of the 
court, the death-sentence was not pronounced. The 
boy was condemned to be sold in the West Indies ; 
and, as is usually stated, the mother shared his fate. 
Everett, in one of his orations, comments upon that 
transaction in the following terms : 

" And what was the fate of Philip's wife and his 
son? This is a tale for husbands and wives, for pa- 



310 



king philip's war. 



rents and children. Young men and women, you 
cannot understand it. What was the fate of Philip's 
wife and his child ? She is a woman, he is a lad. 
They did not surely hang them. No, that would 
have been mercy. The boy is the grandson, his 
mother the daughter-in-law, of good old Massasoit, 
the first and the best friend the English ever had, 
in New England. Perhaps, — perhaps, now Philip is 
slain and his warriors scattered to the four winds, they 
will allow his wife and son to go back, — the widow 
and the orphan, — to finish their days and sorrows in 
their native wilderness. They were sold into slavery, 
West Indian slavery ! — an Indian princess and her 
child, sold from the cool breezes of Mount Hope, 
from the wild freedom of a New England forest, to 
gasp under the lash, beneath the blazing sun of the 
tropics ! 1 Bitter as death ;' ay, bitter as hell ? Is 
there any thing, — I do not say in the range of hu- 
manity ; — is there any thing animated, that would not 
struggle against this? Is there, — I do not say a man, 
who has ever looked in the face of his sleeping child ; 
— is there a dumb beast, a brute creature, a thing of 
earth or of air, the lowest in creation, so it be not 
wholly devoid of that mysterious instinct which binds 
the generations of beings together, that will not use 
the arms, which nature has given it, if you molest 
the spot where its fledglings nestle, where its cubs 
are crying for their meat ?" 




PHILIP DRIVEN INTO A SWAMP BY CHURCH. HIS 
ESCAPE. 

We return to Church's pursuit of Philip. 

After sending his prisoners to Bridge water, the 
captain despatched spies in several directions to dis- 
cover tracks of the enemy. In a short time they re- 
turned, and reported several, which he determined 
to follow. They led him to the spot where the In- 
dians had lately encamped ; but their tires had been 
extinguished ; the remnant of their food was lying in 
fragments round, and all appearance of man or woman 
had disappeared. Church, however, followed them 
by the track, placing some of the Indians, among 
whom were a few taken the day before, in front. 
They were commanded to move with great secresy, 
and on hearing a whistle in the rear, to stoop down, 

(311) 



312 king Philip's war. 

or to stop, should they perceive any party of the 
en em v. Church designed to conceal himself during 
the night, and fall upon any of the enemy whom 
he should meet, in the morning. 

The party in front had not moved far before they 
began to pick up numerous stragglers, principally 
women or aged persons, who, being faint and weary 
with the late marches, could not keep up with the 
others. Among these the captors recognized rela- 
tives, friends, and acquaintances, of many years' 
standing. They gave information that Philip, with 
a party of his followers, was in front ; but appeared 
apprehensive that they would be massacred. Church's 
Indians told them, that if they themselves would be 
orderly and submissive, nothing would hurt them ; 
and " being old acquaintances, they were easily per- 
suaded to conform." 

Inspired with new hope by the report of the fugi- 
tives, Church pressed forward vigorously, and, about 
sunset, reached a thick growth of swamp and under- 
wood. Here the party in front halted, and the cap- 
tain was soon informed that the enemy had been dis- 
covered. He gave orders that they should conceal 
themselves until dark, in the mean while continuing 
their observations upon the enemy's camp. These 
directions were well obeyed ; and while Philip pre- 
pared to distribute his scanty stock of provisions, as 
an evening meal, among his people, he little thought 
that a foe, in whose hand was fate, was lurking 
near and watching every movement. 

On reaching the swamp, Philip had halted, pre- 



king philip's war. 



313 



paratory to encamping for the night. Unconscious 
of the presence of an enemy, his men began to break 
and chop wood to kindle fires, " and a great noise they 
made." Favoured by the latter circumstance, Church 
arranged his men so as nearly to surround the swamp, 
and enjoined the strictest silence. At these prepara- 
tions the Indians lately captured became uneasy, fear- 
ing that some violence would be done to them ; but 
the captain assured them that, if they would remain 
quiet, they would be treated kindly. Otherwise, he 
threatened to kill them all; "so they were very sub- 
missive and obsequious." 

The two parties passed the night almost within 
sight of each other, one in careless security, the other 
prepared for the expected conflict. In the morning 
Church and his men w T ere in arms before daylight, 
yet one obstacle to the contemplated attack still re- 
mained. This was occasioned by the prisoners. If 
they should be taken into the swamp during the bat- 
tie, they could only be in the way, and might seriously 
derange the plan of attack ; if left behind, they would 
either have to be furnished with a guard, which the 
party could ill spare, or might make their escape to 
Philip. Church avoided the dilemma in a manner 
equally bold and characteristic. Assembling the pri- 
soners, he informed them that he could not, at that 
time, give them any guard, as he was about marching 
with his whole force against Philip ; but he told them 
to pay particular attention to what he w r as about to 
say. The substance of this was, that when the fight, 
then expected, should be over, or the firing would 

40 2D 



314 



king philip's war. 



cease, they must follow the track of his company, so 
as to rejoin his party. To add authority to his words, 
he assured them that it would be vain to disobey, 
"for he had taken and killed a great many of the 
Indian rebels, and should, in a little time, kill and 
take all the rest." Being perfectly helpless with 
fear, exhaustion, and numerous infirmities, these 
miserable persons assented to all he said, and the cap- 
tain, with his party, immediately marched forward. 

To obtain accurate information of Philip's position, 
Church despatched two soldiers to make the neces- 
sary observations. They had proceeded but a short 
distance when they encountered two of the hostile 
Indians, who had been sent by Philip to watch 
against the approach of an enemy. The Indians 
turned and fled towards Philip's camp, " yelling and 
howling, and making the most hideous noise they 
could invent." Philip instantly leaped to his feet ; 
all his warriors were alarmed ; and, on perceiving the 
spies running toward them, they hurried toward a 
dense swamp, on the west side of Taunton River, 
near Swansey. Their meat w T as left roasting upon 
wooden spits, and the kettles, in which was cooking 
their morning meal, still hung over the fire. 

The alarm being thus given, Church pursued with 
his usual vigour, and arrived at the swamp soon after 
the enemy had entered it. Dividing his force, he 
sent one part of it, under Mr. Isaac Howland, to the 
one side^ while with another, he proceeded in person 
on the other side. A third party was placed at 
the end of the swamp, where Philip had entered 



king Philip's war. 



315 



it, for Church supposed that, if driven back by him- 
self or Howland, the sachem would return in the 
path by which he came. 

On reaching the other end of the swamp, the cap- 
tain encountered a large body of the enemy, in the 
act of issuing from the thickets. They were well 
armed, but appeared more anxious to escape than to 
fight. At sight of the soldiers — so sudden and un- 
expected — they started back, apparently with the de- 
sign of retracing their steps. Church instantly called 
to them, telling them that they were surrounded by a 
large force ; that if they fired a gun, they were all 
dead men, but if they surrendered peaceably they 
should have quarter. Every thing tended to confuse 
and perplex this luckless party ; and, by their con- 
duct, they appeared to have been at that moment 
destitute of a leader. Some stood perfectly still; 
others looked to the right and left, as though bewil- 
dered ; and the colonists even took the guns out of 
their hands without experiencing any resistance. 
Besides this party, many women and children were 
captured at this end of the swamp. 

During this time Philip, Tuspaquin, and Totoson, 
were at the other end of the swamp, waiting for 
Church to enter by the same track as they had done. 
Their design was to reserve their fire until he should 
pass, and then to aim only at him. Perceiving their 
mistake, these chiefs hastily mustered a small party, 
and marched toward the upper end. By this time 
Church had entered, and perceiving Philip's party, 
he placed his men behind some trees, to w T ait until 



316 



king Philip's war. 



the enemy should pass near them. The Indians, un- 
conscious of danger, advanced, and received the whole 
fire of their hidden foe. A skirmish ensued, in which 
Philip's men, unable to see their antagonists, fired at 
random, and in a short time were driven back. Re- 
treating in the track by which they had entered, they 
encountered the ambush at the entrance of the swamp. 
Both parties fired, and one Lucas, of Plymouth, a man 
notorious for his carelessness, was killed. 

Meanwhile Church was rapidly advancing. Two 
men, who were running beside him as a guard, en- 
countering three of the enemy, secured two without 
trouble, but the other, " being a great, stout, surly fel- 
low, with his two locks tied up with red, and a great 
rattlesnake's skin hanging to the back part of his 
head," ran from them, into the swamp. Church, sup- 
posing it to be Totoson, pursued, and gained upon 
him so fast, that he soon aimed his gun between his 
shoulders, and snapped it. It missed fire, and the 
Indian, turning suddenly round, attempted to shoot 
his pursuer. His gun also snapped without going 
off, and when he turned quickly round to recom- 
mence the race, his foot struck against a small grape 
vine, and he fell fiat on his face. Before he could 
arise Church was upon him and with one blow struck 
the muzzle of his gun deep into the back part of 
his head. Who this warrior was has never been as- 
certained, but that he was a chief of considerable dis- 
tinction is evident from his dress, and the spirit he 
displayed during his skirmish with Church. 

Scarcely had this warrior been killed, when the 



king philip's war. 



319 



captain, looking behind him, " saw Totoson, whom 
he thought he had killed, come flying at him like 
a dragon." His fate now appeared inevitable, but 
happily for himself, his situation was perceived by 
those in ambush, who fired upon Totoson, and 
the party that followed him. The chief escaped, but 
he abandoned his intention of attacking Church. 

This was the last effort of the Indians to maintain 
their position in the swamp. Philip, with his chiefs 
and some fugitives, escaped, and Church collected his 
men, both to secure the prisoners, and to regale them- 
selves upon the food which had been taken from the 
enemy. The prisoners, including those taken the 
night before, together with the Indians who had been 
killed, amounted to one hundred and seventy-three. 
Those left behind previous to the fight, joined the 
main party, as they had been ordered ; and Church, 
being short of provisions, sent an express to Bridge- 
water, requesting the authorities to furnish refresh- 
ment for himself and his men, as he proposed marching 
to that town. 

On the same day the captain returned with his 
whole force to Bridge water. He was received with 
enthusiasm, and the authorities, turning out in a body, 
welcomed him with great cordiality. The fame of 
his exploits, and especially the report that he had 
fought face to face with the redoubtable Philip, filled 
the quiet inhabitants of that town with astonishment, 
so that they gazed upon him with something of the 
awe which might be inspired by the presence of a 
supernatural being. 



320 



king Philip's war. 



When the pomp of the entrance was over, Church 
marched his men to the quarters provided for them, 
where, being "well treated with victuals and drink, 
they had a merry night of it." The prisoners were 
driven into the town pound,- and guarded by friendly 
Indians. Being furnished by the town with provi- 
sions, they forgot, in the satisfaction of the moment, 
that they were captives, and " laughed as loud as the 
soldiers." Merriment rendered them social ; and one 
of them, seizing an opportunity to speak with Church, 
told him, " Sir, you have now made Philip ready to 
die, for you have made him as poor and miserable 
as he used to make the English; for you have now 
killed or taken all his relations. This day's battle has 
almost broken his heart, and we believe you will soon 
have his head." 

It must be apparent to the reader that Philip was 
unprepared for this latter attack of Church. He had 
no time to arrange his men for action, nor even to 
collect them ; and while his indefatigable enemy was 
"capturing a large party at one end of the swamp, the 
sachem, with his chief men, were in ambush at the 
other end, totally ignorant of their loss. The affair, 
therefore, can scarcely be dignified by the title of a 
fight; and the disparity of loss, the colonists having 
but one man killed, displays this fact more clearly. 

* A strong but small wooden inclosure, open to the sky, in which 
stray cattle and horses are kept by authority of the town, or village, until 
they are claimed by the owners, who, on paying a fine to the officer 
superintending the pound, have their animals restored to them. Imprison- 
ment in such a place was a signal mark of contempt. 



king philip's war. 



321 



The Indians were now totally disheartened ; nor can 
we wonder that it was so. Whither should they flee ? 
And yet flee they must, or be taken by their foes. 
True, the influence of Church had rescued many 
from the jurisdiction of the Plymouth court, but 
what guarantee was there that those still in arms 
would be admitted to mercy, or that some of Church's 
acts would not be annulled ? Dark indeed w r as the 
prospect before Philip and the few who still adhered 
to his fortunes. 

On the following day Church marched, with his 
prisoners, to Plymouth, where he received the thanks 
of government for his services. Hoping that his la- 
bours, for that time, were at an end, he disbanded 
many of his soldiers, and prepared to retire to the 
bosom of his family, " being much fatigued, (he writes 
himself,) and his health impaired by excessive heats 
and colds, wading through rivers, &c." But his 
wishes in this respect were not gratified ; government 
had resolved on pursuing the Indians as long as one 
appeared in arms, or until Philip was killed ; and the 
captain received orders to reassemble his men, in order 
to pursue some of the enemy who had been discovered 
in Dartmouth woods. 




21 



DEATH OF BARROW AND TOTOSON. 



Before continuing the narrative of Church's pro- 
ceedings, it will be necessary to notice several inci- 
dents more or less connected with the immediate sub- 
ject of inquiry. 

In July, another day was observed as a general fast, 
by the recommendation of the general court. The 
Puritans, ever accustomed to refer all matters to the 
direct agency of heaven, neglected no opportunity of 
expressing their entire dependence upon Providence, 
as the source of all blessings. Hence, in adversity, 
they humbled , themselves in prayer, in public ser 
vices, and by fasting, and in prosperity they forgot 
not to thank the Giver of good for his bounty. Philip 
and his Indians had ceased to be feared, as he had 
been twelve months before, but still the colony united 

(322) 



king Philip's war. 



323 



in prayer against him ; and the occasion was improved 
to purify themselves of any guilt which might lately 
have been incurred, as well as to imprecate curses 
upon the enemy. Accordingly, on the day appointed 
the churches " solemnly renewed the covenant with 
God and with one another, wherein, after confession 
of the prevailing evils of the times, they entered into 
strict engagements, through the assistance of divine 
grace, for personal and family reformation." Chil- 
dren, as well as adults, took part in this transaction. 

On the 6th of August, an Indian entered Taunton, 
and offered to conduct the townsmen to a party of his 
countrymen, on condition that his life should be spared. 
They might be taken, he alleged, with little difficulty 
or danger. His story was credited, and twenty of the 
Tauntonians marched, under the Indian's guidance, 
for the enemy. They reached the spot, found the 
savages off their guard, and captured the whole party, 
twenty-six in number. 

While Church had been pursuing Philip, Brad- 
ford, with the Plymouth forces, still remained at 
Taunton. Talcot had, however, been active in the 
west, where he captured a large number of prisoners. 

We return to the new expedition under Church. 
He again assembled the friendly Indians, and as many 
of the soldiers as were willing to accompany him ; 
and naming Jabez Howland his lieutenant, he marched 
toward Dartmouth. Howland divided his men into 
small squads, which, scouring the woods in all di- 
rections, captured a number of the enemy. In the 
evening, Church reassembled his party, and examined 



324 



king philip's war. 



the prisoners. They informed him that Totoson wag 
in the neighbourhood, with some of his countrymen, 
unaware of the presence of an enemy. 

Totoson, it will be remembered, conducted the at- 
tack on Clark's garrison, in March, 1676. He was a 
man of daring courage, intrepid in danger, yet wary and 
cunning. Of the few chiefs left to Philip, none clung 
to him more faithfully, or fought more bravely by his 
side than did Totoson ; and of all the sachem's prin- 
cipal warriors, he appears to be the only one that was 
not killed or taken by the colonists. Whether his 
fate was milder than theirs the reader will, in a little 
time, be able to judge for himself 

Totoson was the son of one Sam Barrow, an In- 
dian who appears to have been notorious for his 
former ill deeds. The nature of his offences it is 
impossible, from want of evidence, to ascertain ; but 
they were such as made the colonists his enemies, 
some time before the war. How he escaped the sus- 
picions of the Plymouth court, or if he did not, how 
he escaped the halter, is a mystery. The commence- 
ment of hostilities found him an aged man; yet, 
w r ith the alacrity of youth, he seized his musket, 
joined Philip, and swore to avenge his own wrongs 
and those of his countrymen. From this time until 
the expedition now under consideration, we lose sight 
of him ; but that he fought desperately against the 
colonists may be inferred from his hopelessness of 
pardon, and the fact that, until his death, he was in 
arms. Barrow was with Totoson, when the latter ap- 
peared in the woods near Dartmouth, but his princi- 



king philip's war. 



325 



pal resort was in Rochester, on the left of the main 
road, which passes from that town to Mattapoiset. It 
was a piece of high ground in a large swamp, being 
connected by a narrow neck or causeway to the main 
land. Over this all had to pass who desired to visit 
him. 

Early on the following morning, Church marched, 
with his whole party, against Totoson, and succeeded 
in surprising him. The skirmish, if any ensued, must 
have been very light, for in a few moments the In- 
dians were fleeing in all directions, leaving about fifty 
of their number prisoners. Totoson, with his son, a 
boy eight years old, escaped, and fled to Agawom, in 
Rochester; but Barrow was among the captives. 
The joy of the soldiers at finding this man of bad re- 
pute in their power was great. 

Sam's sentence had long ago been pronounced by 
the Plymouth court. He w r as one of the exceptions 
to the act of mercy, by which the fate of the captives 
depended upon Church's judgment ; consequently, for 
him there was neither council nor intercession. Yet 
some compassion was shown, in not keeping the vic- 
tim in suspense concerning his fate, nor in allowing a 
long time to intervene between the hour of his cap- 
tivity and that of his execution. 

Approaching the old man, .Church informed him, 
that, because of 'his inhuman murders and barbarities, 
the court had decreed that he should forthwith be put 
to death, " and therefore he was to prepare for it." 
Barrow replied that the sentence was just, that he 
was ashamed to live any longer, and that he would be 

2E 



326 



KING PHIL IP'S WAR. 



ready soon as he had smoked a " whiff of tobacco/' 
Privilege to do so was granted, and after improving 
it, with the utmost composure he gave notice that he 
was satisfied. In a moment one of Church's Indians 
sunk his hatchet into his brains. He died like a true 
savage — a stoic of the woods — a man without a tear. 

Different was the fate of his son Totoson. Accom- 
panied bjr his child, and an old squaw, he fled to 
Agawom, in Wareham. Here he abandoned himself 
to grief for the loss of his tribe, and would listen to 
no consolation. All thought of continuing the war 
he seems to have given up; and, like a man in de- 
spair, he refused to be moved by considerations of his 
former bravery, or even to partake of the necessaries 
of life. " The wretch, (says Church,) reflecting upon 
the miserable condition he had brought himself into, 
his heart became a stone within him and he died." A 
rare instance of a great Indian chief, permitting grief 
to prey upon his mind until he died of a broken heart; 
yet it displays a greatness of soul which does more 
honour to the poor, unlettered savage, than does the 
pomp of royalty, supported as it is by a nation's tears, 
to the great ones of a more enlightened race. 

The old squaw, having watched over the warrior to 
the last, covered his dead body with leaves and brush, 
and turned away to seek the abode of her enemies. 
Arriving at Sandwich, she told how he had died, and 
offered to conduct the white men to the place where 
he lay. Whether or not her offer was accepted does 
not appear ; but before she had opportunity to return 
to Agawom, she also sickened and died. 



KING PHILIPS WAR. 



32? 



The death of Totoson forms but an episode in 
the history of Philip's war ; yet it cannot fail to 
awaken many thoughts in the mind of the sensitive 
reader. The story is a sacl one. This chief was the 
last of his kindred, for all the others had been killed 
by Church. He had fought that his tribe might be 
free; and when the hope of success failed, his hands 
became weak, and the ties which had bound him to 
life were broken. The manner of his death ; the sim- 
ple affection of the old Indian woman which prompted 
her to cover his corpse with leaves, and lastly her own 
desolate end, would have awakened sympathy in a 
generous foe. But, as Irving remarks of Canon chet, 
Totoson " was an Indian — a being towards whom war 
had no courtesy, religion no compassion." The in- 
telligence of his death was received with apathy by a 
few, and with indecent exultations by the many, and 
his name was included among those who were de- 
nounced, by the reverend men of that day, as children 
of the devil, and consigned to everlasting misery. 



ADVENTURES AND FATE OF WEETAMOO. 



The death of Totoson was followed by that of 
Weetamoo, the queen or female sachem of Pocasset. 
Few events have elicited more sympathy from modern 
historians of the war, than the fate of this unfortunate 
woman. 

Weetamoo, as has been elsewhere narrated, was 
the wife of Alexander, Philip's brother; and the death 
of that prince made her, as it made Philip, suspicious 
of the English, who she believed had poisoned her 
husband. She was considered "as potent a prince 
as any around her, and had as much corn land and 
- men at her command." After Alexander's death she 
married one Peter Nannuit, an Indian over whom she 
appears to have exercised much control. His name 
appears only occasionally in the records of the colony, 
so that of his character or actions little is known ; but 

(328) 



king Philip's war. 



329 



one fact seems well established, which is, that at the 
commencement of Philip's war he deserted his wife, 
and joined the English. When hostilities ceased, he 
was rewarded with some slight command over the 
prisoners. 

A few days before the war broke out, Church ob- 
tained an interview with Weetamoo, by means of her 
husband. The details of this meeting have been 
given in a previous chapter. Church repaired to 
Plymouth, fully satisfied that he had secured both 
the queen of Pocasset and the queen of Saconet to 
the colonists. Weetamoo was at this time nearly 
alone, her warriors having left her to join Philip. 
She is described as appearing melancholy and taci- 
turn ; nor can there be any doubt but that she was at 
this time in great perplexity as to her future course. 
Church, however, deceived himself when he supposed 
that he could induce her to take up arms against her 
friends, as did the fickle Awashonks. 

Ascertaining the condition of his kinswoman, Philip 
sent an embassy to her, which had the desired effect. 
The Plymouth authorities, as she supposed, not con- 
tent with killing her first husband, had seduced her 
second one, so that no friend was left her but Philip. 
No longer able to remain neutral, she joined her rela- 
tive, and accompanied him in his wanderings about 
Pocasset, until his escape from that place, July 30, 
1675. From this time her movements are so identi- 
fied with those of Philip, as to render the tracing of 
them extremely difficult. During that summer she 
became separated from the main body of the Indians, 

42 2e2 



330 king Philip's war. 

and was received by Ninigret as his guest. For the 
crime of harbouring her, this chief was called to ac- 
count by the Plymouth court, but he eluded their 
demands, and Weetamoo soon after escaped to the 
Narragansetts. Intelligence of this reached the colo- 
nists, and was one cause of their determination to in- 
vade the Narragansett country. It is not known 
whether Weetamoo was at the fort at the time of the 
massacre, but the probability is that she was. 

About this time "W eetamoo joined herself with Quin- 
napin, a famous chief of the Narragansetts, with whom 
she appears to have lived in great amity. Mrs. Row- 
land son, during her captivity, frequently met with 
her, and the description she gives of the Indian queen, 
spiced with hatred, and perhaps a little of female 
jealousy, is somewhat entertaining. " My master had 
three squaws, living sometimes with one, and some- 
times with another — one was Weetamoo, with whom 
I had lived and served all this while. A severe and 
proud dame she was, bestowing every day, in dressing 
herself, near as much time as any of the gentry of the 
land — powdering her head and painting her face, 
going with her necklaces, with jewels in her ears, 
and bracelets upon her hands. When she had dressed 
herself, her work w T as to make girdles of wampum 
and beads." 

Such is the substance of Weetamoo's history, as 
handed to us by her enemy. She appears to have 
been a woman of much energy, faithful in the cause 
which she considered right, and sincerely desirous of 
the welfare of her subjects. Her disposition was 



king philip's war. 



331 



amiable until soured by misfortune and injury ; and 
the affection with which she was regarded by her 
people will appear in the subsequent narrative. The 
only crime that could be alleged against her was at- 
tachment to the cause of Philip ; but for this she was 
hunted from place to place with unrelenting hatred, 
a price was set upon her head, and whole tribes were 
destroyed who were guilty or were suspected of hav- 
ing harboured her. 

Weetamoo had shared the triumphs of Philip; she 
also shared his misfortunes. When, by intestine di- 
visions, his power was destroyed among the Nip- 
mucks, the queen, like her ally, seems to have been 
deserted by most of her followers, and like him also 
she sought refuge in her own country. On the 6th 
of August, 1676, she arrived upon the western bank 
of Teticut River, in Mattapoiset, with twenty-six men, 
the remainder, numbering two hundred and seventy, 
havin.gr deserted her or been slain in battle. Intelli- 
gence of her situation was conveyed to the colonists, 
as usual, by a deserter, who offered to conduct a party 
to capture her. 

Twenty men immediately volunteered, glad of the 
opportunity of capturing the one who was " next to 
Philip in respect of the mischief that had been done." 
The party proceeded with caution until, guided by the 
deserter, they reached Weetamoo's position. The sur- 
prise was complete. The Indians made no resistance, 
and had no time to attempt an escape. All were cap- 
tured except Weetamoo. 

Over the fate of this woman there hangs a singu- 



332 



king philip's war. 



lar mystery, which the investigations of earnest in- 
quirers have not been able to explain. Hubbard's 
account is as follows: "Intending to make an escape 
from the danger, she attempted to get over a river, or 
arm of the sea near by upon a raft, or some pieces of 
broken wood ; but, whether tired and spent with 
swimming, or starved with cold and hunger, she 
was found, stark naked, in Mattapoiset, not far 
from the water side, which made some think she 
was first half drowned, and so ended her wretched 
life." 

Whether she was first "half drowned," whether 
she was murdered by her people, or whether she met 
her death in any other way, equally violent, cannot 
now be ascertained. 

If the tragic story of this princess ended here, it 
would be well. But the colonists found her naked 
body by the water's edge. Their enemy was taken 
at last; yet she was dead, and more than that, her 
corpse was the corpse of a woman. Surely they 
would bury it, if not with magnanimity, yet with de- 
cency, since the manly heart wars not on the dead. 
On the contrary, they indulged in taunts over the 
body, cut off the head, and after carrying it to Taun- 
ton, set it upon a pole. Here it was recognized by 
some of the prisoners, who, assembling around it, 
gave expression to their grief in cries and lamenta- 
tions. Mournful proof of the love which these poor 
creatures bore to their unfortunate princess. Yet so 
bitter was the feeling against the Indians, that Mather, 
several months after this occurrence, denominated this 



king Philip's war. 



333 



act of the Indian captives " a most horrid and dia- 
bolical lamentation. " 

Washington Irving thus comments on the Indian 
queen's fate : 

" Through treachery a number of his faithful ad- 
herents, the subjects of Weetamoo, an Indian princess 
of Pocasset, a near kinswoman and confederate of 
Philip, were betrayed into the hands of the enemy. 
Weetamoo was among them at the time, and attempt- 
ed to make her escape by crossing a neighbouring 
river : either exhausted by swimming, or starved with 
cold and hunger, she was found dead and naked near 
the water side. But persecution ceased not at the 
grave. Even death, the refuge of the wretched, 
where the wicked commonly cease from troubling,- 
was no protection to this outcast female, whose great 
crime was affectionate fidelity to her kinsman and 
her friend. Her corpse was the object of unmanly and 
dastardly vengeance ; the head was severed from the 
body and set upon a pole, and was thus exposed at 
Taunton, to the view of her captive subjects. They 
immediately recognized the features of their unfortu- 
nate queen, and were so affected at this barbarous 
spectacle, that we are told they broke forth into the 
' most horrid and diabolical lamentations.' " 

Weetamoo was among the last of Philip's friends, 
and although we have no account of the manner in 
which he received the news of her death, yet there 
can be little doubt that it affected him deeply. Per- 
haps his subsequent visit to Pocasset was occasioned 
by the grief he felt for one who had ever been faith- 



334 



king philip's war. 



ful to his interests. Her death, and the subsequent 
treatment of the corpse, awaken many reflections in 
the mind ; but no one at the present time will at- 
tempt to justify the conduct of the colonists. Yet this 
conduct, that we now condemn, displays the fearful 
extent to which the passions of man will sometimes 
blind his judgment, leaving him no longer willing to 
listen to the dictates of justice or humanity. More 
than once, during the latter part of Philip's war, must 
the most skeptical reader have been convinced of this 
truth; and the reader of general history need not 
confine his researches to Philip's war, in order fully 
to establish it. 



KEFLECTTONS ON PHILIP'S SITUATION. HE IS DRIVEN 
TO MOUNT HOPE. 



The situation of King Philip about the time of 
Weetamoo's death is thus eloquently portrayed by 
Baylies : — " Philip was now sorely pressed by his fate ; 
his confederates had abandoned him ; his faithless 
friends had betrayed him ; his brother, and the most 
faithful of his followers had fallen in his battles ; his 
uncle had been killed by his side; his wife and only 
son were in the hands of the English ; his dominion, 
once spread so wide, was now contracted to the nar- 
row limits of a diurnal march ; he was hunted from 
wood to wood, and from swamp to swamp ; from his 
lair in the deepest recesses of the forests, to the sea- 
side, and again to the swamps. He dared not trust 
himself among the distant Indians on Connecticut 
River, for they cursed him as the author of their mis- 

(335) 



\ 



336 king Philip's war. 

fortunes ; or amongst the Mohawks, for they were the 
mortal enemies of his race ; yet so stubborn and re- 
lentless was his temper, and so determined was he in 
his animosity to the English, that he put one of his 
followers to death for daring to speak of peace." 

In this forlorn and desolate situation, as a writer 
beautifully remarks, when the powers of earth seemed 
to be forsaking him, he began to look beyond it — to 
consult magicians and sorcerers. Let us not, as 
some have done, brand him for his superstition. Let 
us not, as some have done, infer that his mind was 
weak. The believers in a better faith than that of 
the unlettered Indian, had seen, long before they were 
reduced to Philip's situation, scalps in the moon and 
bows in the sky. Sixteen years after the sachem's 
death, grave men, before whose white hairs the brave 
and the honourable stood up to do reverence, con- 
demned old women for riding through the air on 
broomsticks, flying through keyholes, and sticking 
ten thousand needles in their neighbour's children, 
and one hundred years after his death, there was not 
a graveyard in England or America whose inmates 
did not troop through, the adjoining village at mid- 
night, and chase the belated traveller over hill and 
moor till he died with sheer fright. And this not in 
the wilds of the west; not among the rude boors of 
Scandinavia or Scythia; but in the Puritan county of 
Plymouth, and among the orthodox villages of Eng- 
land and Scotland. 

Do we condemn our ancestors because they were 
superstitious? Far from it. Superstition is woven 



king philip's war. 



337 



in the being of man. It may be developed by the 
nurse's tale, or it may not. If not, it will develope 
itself. Treat the child to tales of ghosts and hobgob- 
lins, and it will be timorous all its days. Withhold 
from him all mention of supernatural beings or phe- 
nomena, and he will, ere yet a man, deify the wind, 
the stars of night, and the ocean, and kneel in rap- 
turous devotion to the rising god of day. Educate 
him in the city, afar from the mysterious workings 
of nature ; yet he cannot be an atheist ; and when 
once he acknowledges the existence of a deity, he 
will pursue the idea to conclusions which ordinary 
minds call superstition. Superstition is a wide term, 
ranging over much which, when morally considered, 
is entitled to grave consideration. In themselves, the 
worst forms of this mental disease, as it is usually 
considered, are not productive of so much evil as is 
generally imagined. It is only when found by the 
side of bigotry that they assume their worst aspect ; 
and every one acquainted with the history of the lat- 
ter characteristic, knows well that, to accomplish its 
objects, it has no need of assistance from superstition, 
irreligion, orthodoxy, nor any thing else. 

Where then is the room to denounce Philip as 
weak ? Besides, he was shut out from the world of 
mankind. His friends were in the hunting-grounds 
of warriors, and he expected soon to join them. Will 
the historian blacken his memory because he clung 
to the religion of his fathers ? Will the philosopher 
sneer because he knows there is no such place as the 
happy hunting-grounds? Will the Christian unite 

22 



338 



king Philip's war. \ 



with Mather in praying that the chief's soul might 
flame to all eternity among devils and damned spirits, 
because he was a " bloody heathen?" To do this 
may be the impulse of a feeling based on truth ; but 
it is a feeling less amiable, we think, than the super- 
stition of the red man. 

Philip was a savage, and considering the circum- 
stances of his birth, position, and education, singular 
indeed would it have been, had he been any thing 
else. Being a savage, he believed in the religion and 
traditions of his tribe for a reason similar to that which 
led Ossian to believe in the spirit of Loda, and induces 
the modern Arab to swear that he sees Pharaoh and 
all his host, flying over the Red Sea on moonlight 
nights. Part of this creed was, that his powwow could 
communicate with the invisible world, thereby curing 
diseases, helping the destitute, and influencing the 
elements ; that the Great Spirit sometimes spoke to 
the Indian in the wind, in the thunder-clap, in the 
still, small breeze of night ; that the souls of departed 
w r arriors waited on a happier shore to receive the 
friends they had left behind. Such was a part of the 
Wampanoag creed ; and believing the whole, Philip 
believed this part of it. Hence, in the deep gloom 
of the woods, he sometimes heard a hollow voice, 
which now sounded like that of Canonchet, and now 
changed to the mournful accents of Weetamoo. 
Hence, in the stillness of midnight, when none was 
near him, he felt stealing over his soul a strange feel- 
ing, unlike any thing before experienced, and which 
seemed to raise his spirit into another and more 



king Philip's war. 



339 



ethereal sphere. True, the sound was but the echoing 
of the forest, and the influence that stole around him 
but a re very — a dream. But, before we condemn 
him, let the self-constituted stoic, be he learned or 
illiterate, deliver himself to the action of similar cir- 
cumstances, and then alone with nature, should he 
experience feelings and reveries which he never ex- 
perienced amid the busy haunts of city life, let him 
still pause in his contempt of Philip, till he explains 
the cause of such influence. It may be a childish 
pleasure, at hearing the grasshopper's song, or a fool- 
ish fear, at being alone after dark. It may be, too, 
the effects of a correspondence between the soul of 
man and the soul of nature, and which in themselves, 
little as they are understood by human philosophy, 
are but a meager portion of those laws which bind 
together each part of God's immense universe, and 
which bind that universe to him. 

Hence it will appear that no author, but one of a 
narrow mind, will accuse Philip of weakness because 
he was superstitious. Applying to his powwows he 
was informed by them that he would never be shot 
by an Englishman. This, it is true, was but a 
sort of negative encouragement ; yet it seems to have 
rendered the chief reckless, and to have given him a 
confidence in his destiny, since he could have no 
more hope for ultimate success. 

Meanwhile Church remained at Plymouth, being 
worn out with fatigue and constant exposure to the 
weather. It was his desire, at this time, to abandon 
military operations and return to his family ; but this 



340 



king philip's war. 



the government would not permit him to do. They 
exhorted him to remember how much he had done, 
and not to retire in the full tide of fame. They ex- 
pressed their conviction that Philip must soon be 
slain, and hinted that the captain would most proba- 
bly be the one who w r ould perform that great exploit. 
And, by way of atonement for former misunderstand- 
ings, they promised him satisfaction and redress for 
all the mistreatment he had experienced. These ar- 
guments were effectual, and Church prepared for 
another expedition. As usual he raised his own 
forces, volunteers joined him in considerable numbers, 
and he again marched, with the hope of capturing 
Philip, to Pocasset. 

Mention has been made of an Indian, who, on pro- 
posing to Philip the propriety of asking peace of the 
colonists, was immediately killed by the indignant 
chief. The brother of the murdered man, disgusted 
w r ith the act, sought and found opportunity to desert, 
and repairing to Sandy Point, he informed the inhabit- 
ants of the deed, and offered to conduct a party in 
pursuit of his former master. 

Church was at this time at the house of one Sand- 
ford, on Rhode Island, having passed over from Po- 
casset on not encountering any of the enemy. On the 
same day, (August 11,) two horsemen rode rapidly up 
to the house, and calling for Church, informed him of 
the news brought by the deserter. Church thanked 
them for the information, saying that he " hoped by 
to-morrow morning to have the rogue's head and, 
leaping upon his horse, which had stood saddled by 



king philip's war. 



341 



the door, he rode at full speed to join his men. Major 
Sandford and Captain Golding, the men who had 
brought the news, accompanied him, with about a 
dozen of his own men whom he had brought over 
from Pocasset. 

Philip, singular as it may appear, had again shut 
himself in by repairing to Mount Hope. What a 
proof have we, in this simple circumstance, of the 
desolate condition of this unhappy savage. " Philip," 
says an old chronicler, "like a savage wild beast, 
having been hunted by the English forces through 
the woods, above a hundred miles backward and for- 
ward, at last was driven to his own den upon Mount 
Hope, where he retired, with a few of his best friends, 
into a swamp which proved but a prison, to keep him 
fast till the messengers of death came, by divine per- 
mission, to execute vengeance upon him." And 
Washington Irving, in quoting this same passage, re- 
marks, that " there needs no better picture of his des- 
titute and piteous situation than that furnished by the 
homely pen of this chronicler, who is unwarily en- 
listing the feelings of the reader in favour of the hap- 
less warrior whom he reviles." 

To this well known retreat Church now prepared 
to follow him. At Trip's Ferry he met the deserter, 
"a fellow of good sense, who told his story hand- 
somely." This Indian again offered to conduct Church 
to the enemy, and to help him kill the sachem, that 
he might revenge his brother's death. He added, that 
Philip was upon a piece of upland, at the southern 
end of a miry swamp, at the foot of the mountain. 

2p2 



342 



king philip's war. 



Thus encouraged, Church crossed the ferry with his 
whole force, Golding leading the van. 

It was now midnight, and the captain, ordering his 
men to halt, requested of Sandford and Golding their 
opinions as to the proper method of conducting the 
attack. They declined giving any advice, "telling 
him that his great experience and success forbade 
their taking upon them to give advice. " Church then 
offered Golding a small force, that he might go in ad- 
vance and discover the exact situation of Philip. 
This he accepted with alacrity. The captain in- 
structed him to be very careful in his approach to 
the enemy, and be sure not to show himself until, by 
daylight, they might see and discern their own men 
from the enemy ; to creep as close to the ground as 
possible, until they came quite near to the swamp, in 
order to fire upon the Indians as soon as they arose ; 
and that when the enemy should start for the swamp 
he should pursue with speed. Each man was di- 
rected to shout as loud as he could, for the ambus- 
cade would receive orders to fire on any one who 
should approach it in silence. 

Captain Williams, of Scituate, was placed in com- 
mand of the right wing of the ambush, and Church 
placed a colonist and an Indian behind each place of 
shelter. This arrangement rendered it impossible for 
any one to pass from the swamp without being ob- 
served, and the men received orders to be careful of 
themselves, and of their friends, but to fire upon any 
who should come silently through the swamp. 

Thus all things were prepared for the death of this 



king philip's war. 



343 



hunted sachem. No force was near to assist him ; no 
avenue was left open by which he might escape. His 
plans had been broken, his hopes frustrated, and on 
the ground that he loved so well, and over the graves 
of his ancestors, he was preparing to fight his last 
battle. 



DEATH AND CHARACTER OF KING PHILIP. 



The swamp in which Philip was concealed, when 
attacked by Church, and in which he was killed, is 
thus described by Carne, in his life of John Eliot : 
" It was a fit retreat for a despairing man, being one 
of those waste and dismal places to which few ever 
wandered, covered w T ith rank and dense vegetation. 
The moist soil was almost hidden by the cypress and 
other trees, that spread their gloomy shades over the 
treacherous shallows and pools beneath. In the few 
drier parts, oaks and pines grew, and, between them, 
a brushwood so thick, that the savage could hardly 
penetrate : on the long rich grass of these parts, wild 
cattle fed, unassailed by the hand of man, save when 
they ventured beyond the confines of the swamp. 
There were wolves, deer, and other animals ; and 
wilder men, it was said, were seen here ; it was sup- 

(344) 



king Philip's war. 



345 



posed that the children of some of the Indians had 
either been lost or left here, and had thus grown up 
like denizens of this wild. Here the baffled chieftain 
gathered his little band around him, like a lion 
baited by the hunters, sullenly seeking his gloomy 
thickets, only to spring forth more fatally ; despair 
was his only friend ; for what other was now left : 
his love was turned to agony; his wife was in the 
hands of his enemies ; and would they spare her beauty ? 
His only son, the heir of his long line, must bow his 
head to their yoke; his chief warriors had all fallen, 
and he could not trust the few who were still with 
him. Canonchet, whose fidelity and attachment were 
stronger than death, was in the land of spirits, chasing 
the shadowy deer, and solaced with many wives ; for 
Philip, to the last, believed in the religion of his 
country. The night before his death, Philip, 1 like 
him in the army of Midian,' says the historian, 1 had 
been dreaming that he was fallen into the hands of 
the English ; he awoke in great alarm, and told it to 
his friends, and advised them to fly for their lives, for 
that he believed it would come to pass.' The place 
was well suited to awake all the terrors of the imagi- 
nation ; to any eye but that of the savage, it was like 
the ' valley of the shadow of death ;' the cypress and 
oak trees hung heavy and still, over the accursed soil ; 
the faint gleam of the pools and sluggish lakes on every 
side, in the starlight, and the howl of the wolf, fitfully, 
as if it warned that the hour was nigh." 

Early on the morning of the ]2th, Church ap- 
proached Major Sandford, and taking him by the 



346 



KING PHIL I P'S WAR. 



hand, said that he had placed his men so that it 
was scarcely possihle for Philip to escape. At this 
moment a single shot was heard in the distance, 
and a ball whistled through the air over their heads. 
Church imagined that it had been fired by accident ; 
but, before he could speak, an entire volley was dis- 
charged. 

The battle had commenced, yet sooner than Church 
had anticipated, and in consequence of a mistake 
made by Golding. An Indian, having retired at some 
distance from his companions, stood for a little while 
looking around him, and, as the captain supposed, 
" looked directly at him." Golding immediately fired ; 
and his men, with singular indiscretion, poured a 
volley into the Indian camp, which, as the savages 
were asleep, passed sheer over them. Philip's men, 
thus unexpectedly aroused, ran into the swamp ; and 
the chief, throwing his belt and powder horn over his 
head, seized his gun and fled. Unaware of the am- 
bush, he ran directly toward two of Church's men. 
When he was quite near, the colonist levelled his gun, 
but it missed fire. He bade the Indian fire, which he 
did with effect, one of the balls passing through the 
sachem's heart, and another through his lungs. He 
bounded into the air, and fell upon his face in the 
mud. 

The battle still went on, although the Indians were 
fighting against fearful odds. They were rallied and 
encouraged to stand, by an old chief, who frequently 
repeated in a loud voice the exclamation, Iootash, a 
sort of war cry, in time of danger. Church, aston- 




(347) 



king philip's war. 



349 



ished by the boldness of this chief, and the loudness 
of his voice, asked his Indian servant, Peter, who it 
was. He answered that it was Philip's great captain, 
Annawon, " calling on his soldiers to stand to it, and 
fight stoutly." But the efforts of this great chief were 
but partially successful, for the greater part of his 
men, on discovering that a part of the swamp was 
not surrounded, made their escape in the English 
tracks. 

Alderman, the Indian who had shot Philip, was, 
by a curious fatality, the brother of him whom the 
sachem had killed for advising peace. He immedi- 
ately ran to inform Church of his exploit ; but the 
captain told him to be silent, and let no man know it, 
until they had driven all the Indians from the swamp. 
The skirmishing continued, with more or less suc- 
cess, until sunrise, when Annawon, and the few who 
remained with him, succeeded in escaping. In this 
encounter five Indians were killed, among whom was 
a son of the chief captain. 

Church, glad of his success in accomplishing the 
main object of the expedition, thought it useless 
to pursue the fugitives, and hence collected his men 
in the place where the Indians had passed the night. 
Here he informed them of Philip's death, which was 
greeted with three loud cheers ; after which the 
sachem's body was dragged from the mud, in which 
it still lay. to the upland ; " and a doleful, great, naked, 
dirty beast he looked like." In the moment of exul- 
tation the victor forgot the magnanimity which had 
hitherto distinguished him, and joined in the jests and 

2G 



350 



king Philip's war. 



cruel mockery with which his followers insulted the 
corpse of the man at whose name they had formerly 
trembled. The revenge taken upon him, whom they 
could never capture alive, was mean and dastardly. 
Captain Church, forgetting that the honour of » the 
conqueror is measured by that of his foe, exclaimed 
that, " forasmuch as he had caused many an English- 
man's body to be unburied, and to rot above ground, 
not one of his bones should be buried ;" and calling 
his old Indian executioner, he bade him behead and 
quarter him. This individual, a brutal and indecent 
wretch, caught the spirit of his superiors, and stand- 
ing over the dead chief, with a hatchet in his hand, 
indulged in remarks too vulgar to be quoted. The 
head was cut off and the body quartered — the pieces 
being afterwards hung upon trees. One of the hands, 
which had been scarred by the splitting of a pistol, 
was given to Alderman, " to show T to such gentlemen 
as would bestow gratuities upon him, and accordingly 
be got many a penny by it." 

Such is the closing scene in the life of the unfor- 
tunate Philip. Unfortunate he was, from his first 
appearance in active life to his death. In 1662, 
when he became chief sachem, the position of the 
two races was such, that the extirpation of one, either 
by force or slow decay, was necessary to make room 
for the other. Which was to be the sufferer, past ex- 
perience very clearly showed. The new sachem was 
from the first suspected, and then condemned ; and 
the course pursued toward him for several years 
prior to the commencement of the war, was such as 



king philip's war. 



351 



greatly to palliate, if not excuse, the worst act he sub- 
sequently committed. 

But it was especially after he had decided upon re- 
sistance to further insult, that his bad fortune thwarted 
his best concerted plans. He was hurried into war 
by the impetuosity of young warriors more enthusi- 
astic than wise, and when the storm burst, he w T as 
deserted by those who had promised to succour and 
shelter him. But for the treachery of his supposed 
friends he would doubtless have prosecuted the war 
with far better success than he did. How much ad- 
vantage the colonists had over him in this respect 
may be inferred from the fact that but one of their 
number joined the Indians — w T ho, it may be remarked, 
being afterwards captured, met with a reward propor- 
tionate to his merits. But Philip's men were con- 
tinually deserting him. In a majority of cases his 
haunts were made known to the colonial forces by his 
own people ; and this it w r as, more than the chances 
of war, more than hunger and suffering, which wrung 
his heart and made his hands weak. 

But no inconsiderable part of his misfortune — a 
part, too, which occasioned him keen anguish — was 
caused by the death of his friends. Perhaps in the 
whole range of Indian biography we will not find a 
man who displays the finer feelings of the human 
soul — those which make home and friendship dear — 
than does this once abused savage. The destruction 
of the Narragansetts filled him with sorrow, and he 
received their fugitives as though they had been his 
own people. Over the fate of Canonchet, of Weeta- 



352 



king philip's war. 



moo, and other friends, he could drop a friendly tear ; 
and his heart broke on hearing that his wife and child 
were captured. Surely these were traits of character 
in this man of misfortune, which we may not only ap- 
prove but imitate. 

It is gratifying to turn from the exultations of the 
writers cotemporary with Philip, to the reflections in- 
dulged in by modern authors, on occasion of his 
death. " The death of Philip, in retrospect, (says 
Holmes,) makes different impressions from what were 
made at the time of the event. It was then con- 
sidered as the extinction of a virulent and implacable 
enemy ; it is now viewed as the fall of a great war- 
rior, a penetrating statesman, and a mighty prince. 
It then excited universal joy and congratulation, as 
a prelude to the close of a merciless war; it new 
awakens sober reflections on the instability of empire, 
the peculiar destiny of the aboriginal race, and the 
inscrutable decrees of Heaven. The patriotism of 
the man was then overlooked in the cruelty of the 
savage ; and little allowance was made for the natural 
jealousy of the sovereign, on account of the barbari- 
ties of the warrior. Philip, in the progress of the 
English settlements, foresaw the loss of his territory, 
and the extinction of his tribe, and made one mighty 
effort to prevent those calamities." 

Irving has, on the same subject, the following ex- 
cellent remarks : 

" Such is the scanty story of the brave, but unfor- 
tunate King Philip; persecuted while living, slan- 
dered and dishonoured when dead. If, however, we 



king philip's war. 



353 



consider even the prejudiced anecdote-s furnished us 
by his enemies, we may perceive in them traces of 
amiable and lofty character sufficient to awaken sym- 
pathy for his fate, and respect for his memory. We 
find that, amidst all the harassing cares and ferocious 
passions of constant warfare, he was alive to the softer 
feelings of connubial love and paternal tenderness, 
and to the generous sentiment of friendship. The 
captivity of his 'beloved, wife and only son,' are men- 
tioned with exultation as causing him poignant mis- 
ery : the death of any near friend is triumphantly 
recorded as a new blow on his sensibilities ; but the 
treachery and desertion of many of his followers, in 
whose affections he had confided, is said to have 
desolated his heart, and to have bereaved him of all 
further comfort. He was a patriot attached to his 
native soil — a prince true to his subjects, and indig- 
nant of their wrongs — a soldier, daring in battle, firm 
in adversity, patient of fatigue, of hunger, of every 
variety of bodily suffering, and ready to perish in the 
cause he had espoused. Proud of heart, and with an 
untameable love of natural liberty, he preferred to 
enjoy it among the beasts of the forests or in the dis- 
mal and famished recesses of swamps and morasses, 
rather than bow his haughty spirit to submission, and 
live dependent and despised in the ease and luxury 
of the settlements. With heroic qualities and bold 
achievements that would have graced a civilized war- 
rior, and have rendered him the theme of the poet and 
historian, he lived a wanderer and a fugitive in his 
native land, and w r ent down, like a lonely bark foun- 



354 



king Philip's war. 



dering amid darkness and tempest — without a pitying 
eye to weep his fall, or a friendly hand to record his 
struggle." 

And Everett, in his oration on the destruction of 
Lathrop's party, indulges in the following strain : 

" Such was the fate of Philip, which was immedi- 
ately followed by a termination of the war, in every 
quarter, except the eastern frontier. It was a war of 
extermination between his followers and the whites ; 
happy, if the kindred tribes had learned wisdom from 
the fatal lesson. Thus fell King Philip ! The ground 
on which we stand is wet with the blood which flowed 
beneath the tomahawk of his young men; and the 
darkness of night in these peaceful vales was often 
lighted up, in days of yore, by the flames of burning 
villages, kindled by his ruthless warriors. But that 
blood has sunk, not forgotten, but forgiven, into the 
ground. Havoc and dismay no longer stalk through 
these happy meadows ; — and as we meet to-day to 
perform the simple and affecting rites of commemora- 
tion over the gallant victims of the struggle, let us 
drop a compassionate tear also for these the benighted 
children of the forest, — the orphans of Providence, — 
whose cruelties have long since been expiated by 
their fate. It could not be expected of them, to enter 
into the high counsels of Heaven. It was not for 
them, — dark and uninstructed even in the wisdom of 
man, — to comprehend the great design of Providence 
of which their wilderness was the appointed theatre. 
It may well have exceeded their sagacity, as it baffles 
ours, that this benign work should so often have 



king Philip's war. 



355 



moved forward through pathways dripping with blood. 
Yes ! the savage fought a relentless war ; but he 
fought for his native land, for the mound that covered 
the bones of his parents; he fought for his squaw 
and pappoose ; — no, I will not defraud them of the 
sacred names, which our hearts understand; — he 
fought for his wife and children. He would have 
been, not a savage, — he would have been a thing, for 
which language has no name, — for which neither 
human nor brute existence has a parallel, — if he had 
not fought for them. Why, the very wild-cat, the 
wolf, will spring at the throat of the hunter that en- 
ters his den ;— the bear, the catamount, will fight for 
his hollow tree. The Indian was a man ; — a degraded, 
ignorant savage, but a human creature, — ay, and he 
had the feelings of a man." 

Yet, after the war had commenced, it was necessary 
for the colonists to prosecute it without quarter. 
They must be extirpated, or their foe ; and, however 
blameable in provoking hostilities, they cannot be con- 
demned for prosecuting them with vigour against all 
those known to be in arms against them. It is for the 
war on the dead, in which they surpassed even the 
savages, that the charge of bigotry and intolerance 
is justly due them; nor were there wanting in Rhode 
Island and in their own colonies, bright examples of 
the effects of a Christian spirit, which in all dangers 
had been found the best policy. 

We turn aside from our narrative to contemplate 
the character of King Philip, as it is delineated by 
the ablest comoiler of the Plymouth records, Baylies. 



356 



king philip's war. 



Though perhaps incorrect in following the common 
opinion concerning the alleged confederacy of the In- 
dian tribes, he sums up leading traits with the skill 
of a master, affording the best view of Philip's cha- 
racter, as a whole, that has ever been written. 

" The most abusive epithets have been lavished 
upon this celebrated and unfortunate Indian; he is 
called ' a caitiff/ ' a hellish monster,' ' a damnable 
wretch,' 'a bloody villain;' even his generous con- 
queror (when describing his appearance after he had 
been dragged from the swamp) in his quaint lan- 
guage says, 'he was a doleful, great, dirty beast;' yet 
we have well attested instances of his tenderness of 
feeling, gratitude, and generosity. Our information 
respecting Philip comes from those who were his bit- 
terest enemies ; and who amongst the English of New 
England was not his enemy ? There was scarcely a 
family in Plymouth, Massachusetts, or Connecticut, 
who had not been compelled to mourn the loss of a 
relative or friend who had fallen in the war. The 
historians of the times, for such an enemy, and a 
heathen, too, could find neither charity nor candor ; 
and with feelings of mingled resentment and grief, 
have they delineated his character, and transmitted to 
posterity the story of his life and actions ; as they 
wrote in a temper stern and revengeful, the traits they 
presented were hideous and disgusting, but some facts 
have escaped which relieve and soften the expression 
of the historical portrait, and compel us to believe 
that in some respects it has been the work of fancy. 

" At the commencement of the war, when Philip's 



king philip's war. 



357 



young men were raging for a victim, he saved the 
life of Mr. Brown, of Swansey, because his father 
had charged him to be grateful for former kindness. 
Tradition says he wept when he heard of the death 
of the first Englishman who fell in this horrible war; 
why should the iron heart of this stern savage have 
gushed out in tears, when he himself was unques- 
tionably the instigator of the war, and the aggressor ? 
The long connexion and friendship which had existed 
not only between him and the English, but between 
them and his father also, and his father's repeated 
injunctions came into his remembrance ; he foresaw 
the terrible scene of havoc and blood, of which the 
war must necessarily be productive, for he had re- 
solved it should be a war of extermination, and he 
sickened at the contemplation of his own designs. 
The numberless sympathies which the recollection of 
a long and familiar intercourse brings up in his mind, 
when that intercourse is about to be dissolved, and 
those who had once been friends are about to be- 
come savage enemies, must have stimulated his feel- 
ings into this excess of grief. His gratitude to the 
Leonards indicates a feeling transcending the ordi- 
nary limits of human kindness, for it averted hos- 
tilities from an entire settlement, which lay in his 
way, and might have been destroyed without much 
difficulty or danger. In short, his vices were those 
of a savage ; the example of his virtues might 
have profited the statesmen and patriots of civilized 
society. 

" His talents were unquestionably of the first order 



358 



king philip's war. 



As a politician he was the greatest of savages. He 
clearly foresaw that the spreading dominion of the Eng- 
lish, their arts, their knowledge, their discipline, and 
their constant numerical increase would inevitably re- 
sult in the expulsion of the aboriginals from the lands of 
their fathers. In vain he attempted to prevent the sales 
of land, in vain he remonstrated with the governor of 
Plymouth ; he saw at length distinctly, that the period 
had arrived when the two races could not exist to- 
gether, and as clearly did he foresee that the Eng- 
lish power, if not destroyed, would advance with 
the certainty of the tide, and with the force of the 
torrent. He intended to have stricken the blow in 
season. With the deepest dissimulation, he amused 
the English until he had formed nearly all the Indian 
tribes of New England into a general confederacy. 
His success in forming this league proves him to 
have been deeply versed in all the arts of savage 
policy. He overcame obstacles from which the most 
enterprising minds would have shrunk. He allayed 
the jealousies of some ; he quieted the suspicions of 
others ; his blandishments even healed those diseased 
minds which, once inflamed by resentment, had been 
hardened into revenge. 

" He reconciled long enduring, hereditary animosi- 
ties, and although he was the chief of one of the 
smallest of the tribes, yet he possessed the art and 
the address to bring the whole to participate in 
his views, and to act under his command and direc- 
tion. 

" Many frightful stories have been told of the cruel- 



king philip's war. 



359 



ties with which his warfare was disgraced, yet it is 
very doubtful whether he ever ordered a single cap- 
tive to be tortured. Hubbard and Mather suspected 
it, but the fact has been verified by no evidence, and 
surely amongst the many captives who were taken, 
amongst the many Indians who, after fighting on the 
side of Philip, deserted him, and allied themselves to 
the English, some one would have been found by 
whom such acts could have been proved, if any such 
had been committed. After his flight from Pocasset 
at the commencement of the war, and in the number- 
less skirmishes, marches, and fights, which ensued, 
until the fight on Taunton River a short time pre- 
vious to his death, no Englishman could say that he 
had seen the fape or heard the voice of Philip. Some 
suspected that he was in the Narragansett fort at the 
time of that great fight ; others supposed that he had 
passed the winter amongst the strange Indians who 
dwelt on the banks of the Hudson ; others conjectured 
that he had sheltered himself in Canada; this stu- 
dious desire of concealment might indicate a want of 
courage, but it must be recollected that he was ex- 
posed to more than the ordinary dangers of war ; a 
price had been set on his head, and the disguises 
which he assumed were no more than necessary ex- 
pedients to enable him to encounter the extraordinary 
perils to which he was exposed. 

" A people whose discipline is too imperfect to en- 
able them to contend with those to whom the science 
and the art of war are equally familiar, must resort to 
ambushes surprises, and stratagems. When know- 



360 



king Philip's war. 



ledge and numbers are equal, then indeed, a fair, 
manly, and open contest, will be more agreeable to 
generous minds than the most adroit manoeuvres, or 
the most skilful movements; and in the days of 
chivalry, the knight who hesitated to meet his adver- 
sary on equal terms, and in fair fight, was branded as 
a recreant; but modern usage has sanctioned all 
modes of warfare by which advantages may be gained 
which do not involve a violation of faith and honour. 

" His mode of making war was secret and terrible. 
He seemed like the demon of destruction hurling 
his bolts in darkness. With cautious and noiseless 
steps, and shrouded by the deep shade of midnight, 
he glided from the gloomy depths of the woods. He 
stole on the villages and settlements of New England 
like the pestilence, unseen and unheard. His dread- 
ful agency was felt when the yells of his followers 
roused his victims from their slumbers, and when the 
flames of their blazing habitations glared upon their 
eyes. His pathway could be traced by the horrible 
desolation of its progress ; by its crimson print upon 
the snows and the sands; by smoke and fire; by 
houses in ruins; by the shrieks of women, the wail- 
ing of infants, and the groans of the wounded and 
the dying. Well indeed might he have been called the 
■ terror of New England V Yet in no instance did 
he transcend the ordinary usages of Indian warfare ! 

" We now set in his seats and occupy his lands ; 
the lands which afforded a bare subsistence to a few 
wandering savages can now support countless thou- 
sands of civilized people. The aggregate of the hap- 



king philip's war. 



361 



piness of man is increased, and the designs of Provi- 
dence are fulfilled, when this fair domain is held by 
those who know its use ; surely we may be permitted 
at this day to lament the fate of him who was once 
the lord of our woods, and our streams ; and who, if 
he wrought much mischief to our forefathers, loved 
some of our race, and wept for their impending 
misfortunes !" 

The death of Philip took place on Saturday, Au- 
gust 12. Immediately after the battle, Church re- 
paired to Rhode Island, where he remained until the 
following Tuesday, when his whole party marched 
for Plymouth. Here they received the miserable 
pittance, " limited by the necessities or the meanness 
of government/' of thirty shillings for each Indian 
captured or killed, instead of regular pay — Philip's 
head " going at the same price." " Methinks (ex- 
claimed Church) it is scanty reward and poor encou- 
ragement ; though it is better than it had been some 
time before." 

The joy of the colonists on hearing of the death of 
the chief whom they had feared so long, was very 
great. All classes united in expressions and demon- 
strations of exultation, and the termination of the dis- 
astrous war was confidently anticipated. Government, 
though moderate in its rewards, exceeded the entire 
population in giving thanks for so propitious an oc- 
currence. The seventh of August was appointed as 
a day of thanksgiving; all the churches were opened, 
ministers proclaimed, in joyous strains, the late bless- 
ing which had been bestowed upon the colony, and 

46 2 H 



362 



king philip's war. 



in order to increase trie general devotion, Philip's 
head was carried about the town of Plymouth on a 
pole. After the religious services were over, the 
sachem's head was place in a conspicuous part of the 
town, where it remained many years. As late as 
1700, Cotton Mather speaks of taking off the jaw with 
his own hand, from the head of " that blasphemous 
leviathan." 



church's pursuit of annawon. 



The small reward given to Church by the Ply- 
mouth colony must be a matter of surprise to the 
reader, when he remembers the promises made to 
Church before he engaged in the last expedition ; but 
that the same government should, a few days af- 
terwards, ask him to engage in another enterprise, 
would surpass belief, were it not attested by the 
most undoubted evidence. Intelligence of new and 
unexpected dangers had forced them upon the mea- 
sure. 

Shortly after the thanksgiving, a messenger came 
in haste from Rehoboth, and informed the governor 
that Annawon, Philip's chief captain, was ranging the 
woods in the vicinity of Rehoboth and Swansey, and 
committing outrages upon the inhabitants. Govern- 
ment instantly took the alarm ; for, from the well 

(363) 



364 



king philip's war. 



known talents of Annawon, it was justly feared that 
he might revenge upon one of those towns the death 
of his master. 

Accordingly, Church was immediately sent for. 
On appearing before the authorities, he was informed 
of the news just received, and entreated to engage in 
one expedition more. The captain told them frankly, 
that their encouragements were of such a nature that 
he feared his soldiers would be dull about going with 
him again. But his reluctance was soon overcome, 
and being of an enthusiastic disposition, he was not 
long in persuading several of his old soldiers to go 
with him. Among these was his former lieutenant, 
Jabez Howland, who promised to accompany him so 
long as there w T as an enemy in the woods. 

With the small party thus hastily raised, Church 
moved through the woods to Pocasset, examining the 
thickets as he passed, but discovering no Indians. 
He then passed over to Rhode Island, in order to 
spend the Sabbath in religious duties; but on the 
morning of that day (August 20) a messenger came 
with information that, only a few hours before, a 
canoe with several Indians in it had been seen pass- 
ing from Prudence Island to Poppesquash Neck, a 
piece of land west of Bristol, and separated from it 
by Bristol Bay. 

On receiving this news, Church lost no time in col- 
lecting his men, hoping to capture the Indians which 
had been seen, and from them to obtain information 
of Annawon's quarters. On reaching the ferry he 
found no boat, but was able, by the use of canoes, to 



KING P JUL IP'S WAR. 



365 



transport himself and sixteen of the friendly Indians 
to the opposite side. A violent storm of wind pre- 
vented the passage of the remainder. This misfor- 
tune did not discourage Church ; but, assembling 
those who had crossed, he asked them if they were 
willing to accompany him to Poppesquash. They 
replied that they were, but expressed their regret that 
no English soldiers were among them. Yet it will 
appear in the sequel, that one or more of the colonists 
were with Church, who must consequently either have 
crossed with the Indians or have joined him afterward. 

The captain now placed himself at the head of his 
small force, and marched through the swamps and 
thickets of undergrowth until he reached the salt 
meadow in Bristol. Here they heard the report of a 
gun, which, at first, Church imagined might come 
from one of his own party ; but, on ascertaining that 
such was not the case, he halted and determined upon 
sending some of his men on a scout. The Indian 
subaltern, Captain Lightfoot, conducted the party, 
which consisted in all of four men. They were in- 
structed to capture, rather than kill, any of the enemy 
whom they might meet, as information might thereby 
be obtained of Anna won. 

After the departure of Lightfoot, Church recom- 
menced his march for Poppesquash, but had not gone 
far before he heard another gun in the same direction 
as the first, but more distant. On arriving at the 
strait or narrow, which connects the neck with the 
main land, he stationed three more men to watch for 
Lightfoot's party, and inform them which way he had 

2h2 



366 



king philip's war. 



gone. The remainder of his force he divided into 
two portions, one of which traversed the eastern coast 
of Poppesquash, the other the western. They re- 
united at the southern extremity of this tongue of 
land, and having seen no enemy, they returned, "big 
with expectations of tidings by their scout." But, on 
joining the three men who had been left at the strait, 
the captain learned, to his mortification and alarm, 
that the scout had neither been seen nor heard from. 

This news filled the party with the most unpleasant 
forebodings. It was now quite dark, and even Church 
despaired of his friends' return. Some of the Indians 
asserted that Nathaniel, a late captive, and one of 
Lightfoot's party, had " turned rogue," and meeting 
with his old Mount Hope friends, had betrayed his 
new companions to them. After waiting for more 
than an hour, Church prepared to pass the night. 
No fire was built, for not one of them had a morsel 
of bread. The party were distributed over a con- 
siderable space, so that, if the scout should arrive 
during the night, they might find their friends the 
more easily. " They had a very solitary, hungry 
night," says Church ; and the unpleasantness of their 
situation was doubtless augmented by their uncer- 
tainty as to the position and force of Annawon. 

Early on the following morning, Church collected 
his party, and marched through the brushwood to a 
hill which was outside the neck. While here, they 
perceived a solitary Indian running toward the spot 
where they lay concealed. It w r as Lightfoot. After 
the first expressions of joy were over, he informed 



king philip's war. 



36? 



Church that his men were safe, and had caught ten 
of the enemy, whom they had guarded all night in 
one of the " flankers" of the fort, built a year before, 
to prevent Philip from escaping. The prisoners, they 
added, were part of Annawon's company, and had 
left their families in a swamp above Mattapoiset 
Neck. The manner in which these Indians had been 
captured, as related by Lightfoot, is somewhat amus- 
ing : — " And as they were marching towards the old 
garrison, Lightfoot gave Captain Church a particular 
account of their exploit, viz., that presently after they 
left him, they heard another gun, which seemed 
toward the Indian burying-place ; and moving that 
way, they discovered two of the enemy flaying of a 
horse. The scout clapping into the brush, Nathaniel 
bid them sit down, and he would presently call all 
the Indians thereabout unto him. They hid, and he 
went a little distance back from them, and set up his 
note and howled like a wolf. One of the two imme- 
diately left his horse, and came running to see who 
was there ; but Nathaniel, howling lower and lower, 
drew him in between those that lay in wait for him, 
who seized him. Nathaniel continuing the same note, 
the other left the horse also, following his mate, and 
met with the same. When they caught these two, 
they examined them apart and found them to agree 
in their story ; that there were eight more of them 
[who came] down into the neck to get provisions, and 
had agreed to meet at the burying-place that evening. 
These two being some of Nathaniel's old acquaint- 
ance, he had great influence upon them, and with his 



368 



king philip's war. 



enticing story, (telling what a brave captain he had, 
how bravely he lived since he had been with him, and 
how much they might better their condition by turn- 
ing to him, &c.,) persuaded and engaged them to be 
on his side, wmich, indeed, now began to be the better 
side of the hedge. They waited but a little while 
before they espied the rest of theirs coming up to 
the burying-place, and Nathaniel soon howled them 
in, as he had done their mates before." 

Church now marched for the fort where his scout 
had passed the night. On arriving there, he met 
Howland and the remainder of his company, and in- 
dulged in a " very acceptable" meal, composed en- 
tirely of horse-flesh. Immediately afterward they 
captured the families of the prisoners already taken, 
together with some stragglers from Annawon's camp. 
These were strictly examined, separately and pri- 
vately ; but they all " held to one story, that it was 
hard to tell where to find Annawon, for he never 
roosted twice in a place." 

While Church was perplexed by these unexpected 
replies, an Indian soldier requested of him permis- 
sion to repair to a swamp about four miles distant, for 
the purpose of bringing in his father. The captain, 
ever ready to improve the slightest circumstance, ac- 
companied him, with a party of one colonist and a 
few Indians. On reaching the swamp, he sent the 
Indian into it to search for his father ; and, discover- 
ing a track which led up through the woods, he con- 
cealed some of his men on each side of it, to watch for 
stragglers. Meanwhile the soldier began to howl for 



king Philip's war. 



369 



his father, and, shortly after, some one answered him. 
While watching for the result of this curious search, 
they perceived an old man coming down the track 
with a gun over his shoulder, and followed by a 
young woman. Both were speedily captured and 
placed under examination, being first informed " what 
they must trust to if they told false stories." The 
young woman, little disposed to run the hazard to be 
incurred by an attempt to deceive, answered that she 
was one of Annawon's party ; that he was then in 
Squannaconk swamp, and that his force numbered 
fifty or sixty warriors. The old man, who had been 
one of Philip's counsellors, confirmed this report, 
adding, that by travelling rapidly, Church might 
reach the swamp before sunset. Church then asked 
him where he was going. He replied to Mount Hope, 
to look after some men whom Annawon had sent to 
kill cattle. The captain told him that they had been 
captured. 

By this time the Indian soldier joined them, bring- 
ing his father and another Indian. Church was in 
great perplexity. He desired eagerly to improve the 
information he had received by marching against 
Annawon. But he had only six men beside him- 
self, while the Indian chief was at the head of ten 
times that number. It was desirable, likewise, to ac- 
quaint Howlandson and the garrison at Mount Hope 
with the project, should it be undertaken, and this it 
was extremely difficult to do. But in the face of 
these discouragements, not to say impossibilities, 
Church was inclined to risk the chances of an attack. 

24 



370 



king Philip's war. 



In order to have the entire co-operation of his men, 
he proposed the subject to them, and asked who were 
willing to accompany him. They expressed them- 
selves ready to obey his commands, but reminded him 
that Annawon was a great soldier, that he had been 
a valiant captain under Ossamequin, (Massasoit,) that 
he had been Philip's captain during the whole war, 
that he was a cunning man, of great resolution, and 
had often said he would never be taken alive by the 
English, and that the men then with him were some 
of the greatest warriors who had fought with Philip. 
After these gentle insinuations, they added, for the 
especial benefit of Church, that, after all the great 
things he had done, it would be a pity if he would 
throw away his life at last. 

It was quite plain to Church, that his men did not 
want to go ; but it was on such occasions that his au- 
thority over them was displayed in a most remarkable 
manner. The idea of leading six men against fifty, 
would seem to justify a very strong degree of remon- 
strance, on the part of the subordinates, with the 
officer who should propose it ; yet was Church en- 
dowed with that rare influence over the minds of 
men, which compels ordinary characters to unite with 
the man of true genius in schemes of which he sees 
neither the utility nor the common sense. On the 
present occasion, as on all others, he did not arbi- 
trarily interpose his authority by ordering his men to 
march ; but sought first to strengthen their confidence 
in him and in themselves. He replied, therefore, that 
he was well aware of Annawon's bravery, yet, that 



king Philip's war. 



371 



having long sought for him in vain, he waf loathe to 
miss the opportunity which now presented itself ; and 
that he had no doubt, if they would fearlessly accom- 
pany him, the same Almighty Providence that had 
hitherto protected and befriended them, would do so 
still. These arguments were effectual, and they 
agreed unanimously to accompany him. A Plymouth 
man, named Cook, also volunteered ; but the new In- 
dian soldier, with his father, was sent to Howlandson, 
with orders for him to move to Taunton with the pri- 
soners, and thence to the Rehoboth road, " in which 
he might expect to meet him, if he were alive and 
had success." 

Having completed these arrangements, Church 
turned to the old counsellor, and asked him to con- 
duct them to Annawon's quarters. He complied, and 
was soon on the track, sometimes travelling so fast 
that he was nearly out of sight, on which occasions 
he would suddenly look round, and then halt until 
the company overtook him. At sunset he came to 
what Church calls a full stop, and sat down ; and the 
party, being weary, seated themselves around him. 
To Church's question as to the object of this move- 
ment, the old man replied, that at that time in the 
evening Annawon was accustomed to send out his 
scouts to watch for enemies ; but, as soon as it was 
dark, the scouts returned. Accordingly, when even- 
ing arrived, the old man suddenly arose ; but, before 
he recommenced his march, Church asked him if he 
would take a gun and fight with the rest. The an- 
swer of this poor savage is worthy of lasting rcmem- 



372 



king philip's war. 



brance. "He bowed very low, (says Church;) and 
prayed me not to impose such a thing upon him as 
to fight against Captain Annawon, his old friend." 
He added, however, "I will go along with you and 
be helpful to you, and will lay hands on any man that 
shall offer to hurt you." How these noble sentiments 
affected the Indians who composed Church's party, 
we are not told ; nor does it appear whether their au- 
thor was shot or hanged when he reached Plymouth. 
But, as he had been a counsellor of the arch-enemy, 
and did not even desert his cause after the sachem's 
death, it seems preposterous to suppose that there was 
room either for pardon or mercy left. 

They were now not far from the rock behind which 
was the camp of Annawon. A description of the 
place and of the attack we reserve for the following 
chapter. 




CAPTURE AND DEATH OF ANNAWON. SURRENDER OF 
TUSPAQUIN. 

In the south-eastern part of Rehoboth, in nearly 
a direct line between Taunton Green and Providence, 
is a solitary swamp, near which, the traveller, unac- 
quainted with European scenery, frequently pauses, 
to enjoy a scene so different from most of those which 
meet the eye in that region of plenty. This piece 
of ground is estimated to contain three thousand 
acres. The soil is moist, and, in wet seasons, over- 
flowed ; briers, thorns, weeds of every kind, and poi- 
sonous vines, grow in such luxuriance, that a man 
can scarcely force his body through them ; while,* 
over the dense thicket, a few birch, maple, and beach 
trees, wave their branches in a kind of gloomy gran- 
deur. Formerly the ground was constantly sub- 

2 1 (373) 



374 



king Philip's war. 



merged, but now the road from Taunton to Provi- 
dence passes through the north-western part. 

Within this swamp rises a single rock, which 
stretches from north-east to south-west, over a dis- 
tance of seventy or eighty feet, and to a height of 
thirty feet. It is composed of sand and pebbles ; and 
from the seams in its steep sides shoot small bushes, 
thorns, and creepers. Should the traveller examine 
attentively the north-eastern ridge, he might gradu- 
ally imbibe the opinion, that, at no very remote age, 
large pieces had been broken off from that quarter 
of the rock and cast in confusion upon the ground ; 
and this, there seems little room to doubt, was the 
case. The rock can be ascended only from the north- 
east, for the opposite cliff overhan'gs the ground, form- 
ing a partial cavern, with a small opening below. 
As the stranger gazes upon this remarkable pile, his 
questions respecting its history are answered by the 
reply, "It is Annawon's rock." In the hollow under 
the south-western cliff the chief and his party were as- 
sembled when surprised by Church. The roots of a 
large tree now overrun and fill this hollow ; but, with 
this exception, the appearance of the rock in every 
part is the same as it was two hundred years ago. 

Annawon had guarded that part of his camp which 
faced the swamp, and ordered his people not to ap- 
proach him from that quarter. " It was a prudent 
precaution to guard that side, as it prevented the pos- 
sibility of a surprise; neither was it imprudent in 
Annawon to leave the other side unguarded, because 
he well knew that he must be secure on that side, 



king philip's war. 



375 



unless there was treachery amongst his own people, 
and against their treachery precautions were useless:" 

Such were the measures which this old warrior had 
taken to guard against surprise. They were useless. 
The same treachery which had lurked like a serpent 
in the camp of Philip, until it found opportunity to 
sting him with its fatal fangs, had crept among the 
followers of Annawon; and while the unhappy chief 
lay, as he supposed, secure, destruction was approach- 
ing with stealthy yet sure steps. 

Church's account of Annawon's capture, though in 
the quaint style of the old Puritans, is so minute 
and lively that it cannot fail to interest the reader. 
He w r rites a follows : 

" It being now pretty dark, they moved close to- 
gether; — anon they heard a noise. The captain 
stayed the old man with his hand, and asked his own 
men what noise they thought it might be ? They 
concluded it to be the pounding of a mortar. The 
old man had given Captain Church a description of 
the place* where Annawon now lay, and of the diffi- 

* This solitary retreat is in the south-easterly part of the town of Re~ 
hoboth, but being- near Taunton line, some, in relating - the story, report 
it to be in this town. It is about eight miles from Taunton green, and 
nearly in a direct line to Providence. The north-west corner of Dighton 
runs up between Taunton and Rehoboth, through which we pass in going 
from Taunton to Annawon's Rock. (By this name it is known through- 
out that part of the country.) It is in a great swamp, called Squannaconk, 
containing nearly three thousand acres, as I was informed by Mr. A. Bliss, 
the nearest inhabitant to it. The road passes round the north-westerly 
part of the swamp, and within six or eight rods of the rock. This im- 
mense rock extends north-east and south-west seventy or eighty feet, and 
to <this day the camp of Annawon is approached with difficulty. A part 



376 



king Philip's war. 



culty of getting at him. Being sensible that they 
were pretty near them, with two of his Indians he 
creeps to the edge of the rocks, from whence he could 
see their camps. He saw three companies of Indians 
at a little distance from each other ; being easy to be 
discovered by the light of their fires. He saw also 
great Annawon and his company, who had formed 
his camp or kenneling place by felling a tree under 
the side of the great cliffs of rocks, and setting a row 
of birch bushes up against it, where he himself, his 
son, and some of his chiefs, had taken up their lodg- 
ings, and made great fires without them, and had 
their pots and kettles boiling, and spits roasting. 
Their arms also he discovered, all set together, in a 
place fitted up for the purpose, standing on end against 
a stick lodged in two crotches, and a mat placed over 
them, to keep them from the wet or dew. The old 
Annawon's feet and his son's head were so near the 
arms as almost to touch them.[ — ] 

of its south-east side hangs over a little, and the other, on the north-east 
part, seems, in no very distant period, to have tumbled down in large 
clefts. Its height may be thirty feet. It is composed of sand and peb- 
bles. A few scattering maple, beech, birch, &c, grow about it; as also 
briers and water bushes, so thick as almost to forbid approach. For- 
merly it was, no doubt, entirely surrounded by water, as it is to this time 
in wet seasons. The north-west side of the rock is easily ascended, as it 
gradually slopes away from its summit to its base, and at an angle, per- 
haps, not exceeding thirty-five degrees. Small bushes grow from the 
seams in its steep side, as in the days of Church. Near the south-west 
extremity is an opening of an angular form, in which, it is said, Annawon 
and the other chiefs were encamped. This opening now contains the 
6tump of a large tree, which must have grown since those days, as it 
nearly fills it up. 



king philip's war. 



377 



" The rocks were so steep that it was impossible to 
get down, [only] as they lowered themselves by the 
boughs, and the bushes that grew in the cracks of the 
rocks. Captain Church, creeping back again to the 
old man, asked him, if there were no possibility of 
getting at them some other way? He answered, 
* No.' That he and all that belonged to Annawon, 
were ordered to come that way, and none could come 
any other way without difficulty, or danger of being 
shot, 

" Captain Church then ordered the old man and 
his daughter to go down foremost with their baskets 
at their backs, that when Annawon saw them with 
their baskets he should not mistrust the intrigue. 
Captain Church and his handful of soldiers crept 
down also, under the shadow of those two and their 
baskets. The captain himself crept close behind the 
old man, with his hatchet in his hand, and stepped 
over the young man's head to the arms. The young 
Annawon, discovering of him, whipped his blanket 
over his head, and shrunk up in a heap. The old 
Captain Annawon started up, and cried out £ Howoh,' 
(I am taken.) And despairing of escape, threw him- 
self back again, and lay silent until Captain Church 
had secured all the arms, &c. And having secured 
that company, he sent his Indian soldiers to the other 
fires and companies, giving them instructions what to 
do and say. Accordingly they went into the midst 
of them. When they [had] discovered themselves 
[to the enemy, they] told them that their captain, 
Annawon, was taken, and [that] it would be best for 

48 2i2 



378 



king Philip's war. 



them, quietly and peaceably, to surrender themselves, 
which would procure good quarter for them ; other- 
wise, if they should pretend to resist or make their 
escape, it would be in vain, and they could expect no 
other but that Captain Church, with his great army, 
who had now entrapped them, would cut them to 
pieces. Told them also, [that] if they would submit 
themselves, and deliver up all their arms unto them, 
and keep every man in his place until it was day, 
they would assure them that their captain, Church, 
who had been so kind to themselves when they sur- 
rendered to him, should be as kind to them. Now 
they being old acquaintance, and many of them rela- 
tions, did much the readier give heed to what they 
said; [so] complied, and surrendered up their arms 
unto thern, both their guns and hatchets, &c, and 
were forthwith carried to Captain Church." 

Equally interesting is the captain's account of his 
interview with Annawon, after the party of the latter 
had surrendered : — " Things being so far settled, Cap- 
tain Church asked Annawon, 'what he had for sup- 
per?' 'for (said he) I am come to sup with you.' 
4 Taubut' (said Annawon) with a big voice, and look- 
ing about upon his women, bid them hasten and get 
Captain Church and his company some supper. [He] 
then turned to Captain Church and asked him whether 
he would eat cow beef or horse beef? The captain 
told him cow beef would be most acceptable. It was 
soon got ready, and pulling his little bag of salt out 
of his pocket, which was all the provision he brought 
with him. This seasoned his cow beef. So that 



! 



CAPTUEE OP ANNA WOK. 

C £57y ) 



KING PHILIPS WAR. 381 

with it and the dried green corn, which the old squaw 
was pounding in the mortar, while they were sliding 
down the rocks, he made a very hearty supper. And 
this pounding in the mortar proved lucky for Cap- 
tain Church's getting down the rocks ; for when the 
old squaw pounded, .they moved, and when she 
ceased to turn the corn, they ceased creeping. The 
noise of the mortar prevented the enemy's hearing 
their creeping, and the corn being now dressed, sup- 
plied the want of bread, and gave a fine relish with 
the cow beef. 

" Supper being over, Captain Church sent two of 
his men to inform the other companies, that he had 
killed Philip, and taken their friends in Mount Hope 
Neck, but had spared their lives, and that he had sub- 
dued now all the enemy, (he supposed,) except this 
company of Annawon; and now if they would be 
orderly and keep their places until morning, they 
should have good quarter, and that he would carry 
them to Taunton, where they might see their friends 
again, &c. 

"The messengers returned, [and informed] that 
Indians yielded to his proposals. 

" Captain Church thought it was now time for him 
to take a nap, having had no sleep in two days and 
one night before. [So he] told his men, that if they 
would let him sleep two hours, they should sleep all 
the rest of the night. He laid himself down and en- 
deavoured to sleep, but all disposition to sleep de- 
parted from him. 

" After he had lain a little while, he looked up to 



382 



king philip's war. 



see how his watch managed, but found them all fast 
asleep. Now Captain Church had told Captain An- 
na won' s company, as he had ordered his Indians to 
tell the others; [namely] that their lives should all 
be spared, excepting Captain Annawon's, and it was 
not in his power to promise him his life, but he must 
carry him to his masters at Plymouth, and he would 
entreat them for his life. 

" Now when Captain Church found not only his 
own men, but all the Indians fast asleep, Anna won 
only excepted, who, he perceived, was as broad awake 
as himself ; and so they lay looking one upon the 
other, perhaps an hour. Captain Church said nothing 
to him, for he could not speak Indian, and thought 
Anna won could not speak English. 

" At length Annawon raised himself up, cast off 
his blanket, and with no more clothes than his small 
breeches, walked a little way back from the com- 
pany. By and by he was gone out of sight and 
hearing, and then Captain Church began to suspect 
some ill design in him; and got all the guns close to 
him, and crowded himself close under young Anna- 
won ; that if he should any where get a gun, he should 
not make a shot at him without endangering his son. 
Lying very still awhile, waiting for the event, at 
length, he heard somebody coming the same way 
that Annawon went. The moon now shining bright, 
he saw him at a distance coming w T ith something in 
his hands, and coming up to Captain Church, he fell 
upon his knees before him, and offered him what ho 
had brought, and speaking in plain English, said, 



king philip's war. 



383 



* Great captain, you have killed Philip, and con- 
quered his country ; for I believe that I and my com- 
pany are the last that war against the English, so 
suppose the war is ended by your means; and there- 
fore these things belong unto you.' Then opening 
his pack, he pulled out Philip's belt, curiously 
wrought with wampum, being nine inches broad, 
wrought with black and white wampum, in various 
figures, and flowers, and pictures of many birds and 
beasts. This, when hanged upon Captain Church's 
shoulders, reached his ancles ; and another belt of 
wampum he presented him with, wrought after the 
former manner, which Philip was wont to put upon 
his head. It had two flags on the back part, which 
hung down on his back, and another small belt with 
a star upon the end of it, which he used to hang on 
his breast, and they were all edged with red hair, 
which Anna won said they got in the Mohawk's 
country. Then he pulled out two horns of glazed 
powder, and a red cloth blanket. He told Captain 
Church [that] these were Philip's royalties, which 
he was wont to adorn himself with, when he sat in 
state; that he thought himself happy that he had an 
opportunity to present them to Captain Church, who 
had won them, &c. [They] spent the remainder of 
the night in discourse. And [Captain Annawon] 
gave an account of what mighty success he had 
[had] formerly in wars against many nations of In- 
dians, when he served Asuhmequin, Philip's father, 
&c." 

Next morning before sunrise, Church assembled 



384 



king philip's war. 



his prisoners, and marched toward Taunton. When 
within four miles of the town he met Howland and 
his company, who hailed him with joy, having de- 
spaired of his success or even of his return. They 
were received by the people of Taunton with great 
kindness, and after partaking of a hearty repast, they 
remained there during the night. On the following 
day Howland was sent, with all the prisoners except 
Annawon, to Plymouth ; while Church, with his ser- 
vant and half-a-dozen other Indians, went to Rhode 
Island, carrying Annawon with him. After remain- 
ing there two or three days, he proceeded with his 
wife and children to Plymouth. 

The capture of Annawon was one of the boldest 
achievements of the war, and it was accomplished by 
the daring energy of one man. Church was, as usual, 
favoured by many accidents — the capture of the old 
counsellor, the noise made by the Indian woman in 
Annawon's camp, the treachery of the hostile Indians, 
and the despair of the old chief: while, with respect 
to Annawon, every thing seemed to conspire against 
him. Yet, after all, it was the iron determination of 
will, and the ability to avail himself of every event of 
fortune, which insured Church his success, and en- 
abled him to accomplish what appeared to other 
officers impossible. His influence over the captives 
is not less remarkable than are his victories ; for, from 
the moment that they were drawn within its magic 
sway they ceased to act for themselves, and became 
wholly subservient to the will of their conqueror. 

The capture of Annawon was an event of great im- 



king philip's war. 



385 



portance. It virtually terminated the war ; for all the 
subsequent expeditions were in pursuit of fugitives, 
who, instead of appearing in arms, were hastening to 
leave the country. The fear which had brooded over 
the colonies for more than a year was dissipated, and 
"the English race in New England were saved from 
destruction and placed in safety." 

It might be supposed that the man who had con- 
ferred this great benefit upon his country, at the risk 
of his life, and expense of so much hardship and suf- 
fering, would have received a large reward, especially 
as his expedition was undertaken at the urgent re- 
quest of government. His reward was the thanks of 
the Plymouth court. 

The captain, according to his promise, used his in- 
fluence to save Annawon's life ; and, most probably, 
it was through fear of his immediate execution that 
he took him first to Rhode Island. The noble bear- 
ing of the old warrior, his generosity to Church, and 
the entire confidence he reposed in him, were quali- 
ties which would have commanded the respect of any 
magnanimous foe. They found no admirers among 
the Plymouth authorities. Annawon, from the mo- 
ment of his appearance in the town, was a doomed 
man, and the court, taking advantage of the tempo- 
rary absence of Church, ordered him to be beheaded 
— "a dastardly act, (says Baylies,) which disgraced 
the government." He was among the last of the In- 
dian captains of New England, and with him expired 
the spirit which had combated so long against the 
advance of civilization. 

25 



386 



king philip's war. 



There was still one of Philip's captains in the 
field, though, after the taking of Annaw r on, he was 
more anxious to keep out of the way of the colonists 
than to risk an encounter with them. This was old 
Tuspaquin, the chief who had led the attacks upon 
Scituate and Bridgewater, in the spring of 1676. He 
is supposed to have conducted the party which, in 
the following May, burned eighteen houses and seven 
barns at Plymouth. Subsequently he retired to the 
Assawomset country, where he was when Church 
commenced pursuing him. He baffled the captain for 
a long time ; but, on the 25th of July, Church cap- 
tured a number of his followers, who, as usual, in- 
formed against their old master, and joined in pur- 
suing him. The two great opponents met near the 
Assawomset ponds, when Tuspaquin defended him- 
self with such resolution, that the captain was glad 
to retire toward Dartmouth. But, after Annawon's 
capture, Tuspaquin abandoned all idea of further re- 
sistance, and endeavoured to make his retreat from 
the colony. But, being destitute of provisions, he was 
forced to make depredations upon the cattle, horses, 
and swine of the neighbourhood, and this mischief soon 
attracted the notice of the government at Plymouth. 

Early in September, Church marched in pursuit 
of this, his old and last important foe. Discovering 
an Indian track, he sent two of his men to follow it, 
who soon returned with information that they had 
discovered the enemy, sitting around their fires in a 
thicket of bushes. Approaching the place, the cap- 
tain threw himself upon his hands and knees, order- 



king piiilip's war. 



387 



fcng his men to do the same and to creep after him. 
When near the swamp, they surrounded it, still creep- 
ing forward and narrowing their circle until they 
were perceived by the enemy. They then rushed 
forward and secured the whole party. 

On being examined separately, these Indians in- 
formed Church that Tuspaquin, in company with two 
of his men, had gone to Agawom to kill horses, and 
was not expected back within two or three days. 
They added a variety of other information concern- 
ing this chief, of whose exploits they were exceed- 
ingly proud. He could not, as they alleged, be shot 
with a bullet, for they had seen many glance from 
him on striking his person. Church replied that 
his life should be spared, and that he wished to en- 
rrao-e him to fight against the eastern Indians, who 
were still in arms. He therefore left two old women, 
of those just captured, to wait for Tuspaquin's ar- 
rival, "and to tell him that Church had been there, 
and had taken his wife and children, and company, 
and carried them down to Plymouth, and would spare 
all their lives, and his too, if he would come down to 
them, and bring the other two that were, with him, 
and they should be his soldiers." After leaving abun- 
dant provisions for them, he returned to the town, 
"telling his soldiers that he doubted not but he had 
laid a trap that would take him." 

Church then repaired to Plymouth, and afterwards 
to Boston, where he had an interview with Governor 
Leverett, who expressed his sense of the captain's 
services, and promised to rew T ard him handsomely ; 



3S8 



king philip's war. 



but his death occurring soon after, Church was obliged 
to content himself with thanks. 

Meanwhile the plan to capture Tuspaquin had 
been successful; and the chief, confiding in the 
promise which had been made, and no doubt glad of 
the opportunity to save his life, came to Plymouth 
with his small party. Church, as we have observed, 
was then at Boston, but he had informed the Ply- 
mouth authorities of his pledge, which, being given 
by authority vested in him by themselves, was of 
course inviolate. On returning from Boston, he 
learned that Tuspaquin, Annawon, and all the other 
Indians who had in any manner distinguished them- 
selves under Philip, had been beheaded. 

Drake, in speaking of this transaction, remarks, "It 
is true that those who were known to have been per- 
sonally engaged in killing the English, were, in the 
time of the greatest danger, cut off from pardon by 
a law; that time had now passed away; and, like 
many other laws of exigency, it should then have 
been considered a dead letter, leaving out of the case 
the faith and promise of their best servant, Church. 
View it therefore in any light, and nothing can be 
found to justify this flagrant inroad upon that pro- 
mise. To give to the Plymouth government a pre- 
text for this murder, (a milder expression I cannot 
use,) Mr. Hubbard says, 'Tuspaquin, having pre- 
tended that a bullet could not penetrate him, trial of 
his invulnerableness was resolved upon. So he was 
placed as a mark to shoot at, and he fell down at the 
first shot,' " 



king Philip's war. 



389 



The same author, in another work, makes these 
remarks upon the fate of Tuspaquin and his compa- 
nions, and of the tribes for which they fought : 

" Melancholy indeed is the reflection, a nation is no 
more ! Thus we behold the instability of all things, 
acted upon by the exterminating hand of time. The 
rude government of the natives could not protect 
them against treachery in an uncommon degree. 
Their means of support being often scant, and many 
times nearly cut off, was a great inducement to de- 
sertion to the English, where they always fared much 
better. Hence their first great disaster, at the swamp 
fight in Narragansett, was owing to a fugitive's lead- 
ing the English to the only assailable part of the fort; 
Philip fell b}' the same foul treachery ; and, lastly, 
Ann a won, who, had he been a Roman, would have 
been called the great 

" The conduct of the government in putting to 
death ' Annawon, Tuspaquin, &c.,' has ever been 
viewed as barbarous ; no circumstance now made it 
necessary. The Indians were subdued, therefore no 
example was wanting to deter others. It is true, some 
were mentioned by the government as unmeriting 
mercy ; but humanity forbade the execution of laws 
formed only for the emergencies of the moment. Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson observes, 'Every person, almost, 
in the two colonies, (Massachusetts and Plymouth,) 
had lost a relation or near friend, and the people in 
general were exasperated ; but all does not sufficiently 
excuse this great severity.' 

" Mr. Hubbard, who wrote at the time, does not fail 

2K2 



390 



KING PHILIP S WAR 



to justify all the measures of government. He says 
that Church promised Tuspaquin an office under him> 
if what he had made his followers believe were true, 
that a bullet could not kill him. When he delivered 
himself up, the government thought proper to see if 
it were the case, so shot at him, and he fell dead the 
first fire!- Annawon was accused of torturing and 
murdering many English prisoners, 'which he could 
not deny,' therefore he was put to death in the same 
manner. Mr. Hubbard, though an eminent historian, 
was not free from the prejudices of the times. As for 
us, we can only lament the end of those heroes." 

In view of the deaths and executions which took 
place in such rapid succession among the Indian 
chiefs at this time, Mather indulges in the following 
strain: — "Where are the six Narragansett sachems, 
with all their captains and counsellors? Where are 
the Nipmuck sachems, with their captains and coun- 
sellors? Where are Philip and the squaw-sachem of 
Pocasset, with their captains and counsellors? God 
do so to all the implacable enemies of Christ, and of 
his people, in New England." It would appear from 
these words, that many more powerful chiefs were 
slain in battle, or executed, than the few whose names 
are recorded in history; and when we consider the 
circumstances of this war, raging at one time in nearly 
every township of the two larger colonies, it seems 
necessary to assign to the Indians more leaders than 
has generally been done. 

News of the fate of Tuspaquin and his companions 
was circulated through the colony, and reached the 



king philip's war. 



391 



hearing of those Indians who were still concealed 
among the thickets and forests of the country. Cut 
off from hope of pardon, this wretched remnant en- 
deavoured to make their escape, some in small parties, 
others alone. Those in the west proceeded toward 
the Hudson, but the large majority journeyed north- 
ward, either to unite with the eastern tribes, or to 
press through the dreary regions of Maine into 
Canada. But a few, either unwilling or unable to 
escape, remained; and, as will appear in the ensuing 
chapter, the war was not considered at an end, until 
these few were cut off. 




CLOSE OF THE WAR IN MASSACHUSETTS AND RHODE 

ISLAND. 

The general court of Plymouth, being in session 
at the time of Church's return from Boston, resolved 
to express their high appreciation of his services in a 
manner more striking than they had hitherto done ; 
and accordingly, the captain, being admitted into 
their presence, received a unanimous vote of thanks. 

While preparing to make disposition of the prison- 
ers, government was not unmindful of the fugitives, 
who, as was suspected, were watching for opportunities 
to leave the country. This vigilance it exerted for 
nearly four months ; nor was this perseverance with- 
out its reward. Sixty fugitives were ascertained to 
be lurking in the woods near Rehoboth. Church was 
immediately sent for, but he did not receive his com- 
mission for another expedition until January. 

(302) 



king philip's war. 



393 



Meanwhile, Peter Ephraim, a Natick Indian, act- 
ing under a commission from Massachusetts, went in 
pursuit of the same party, with twenty-four Indians 
and a few colonists. The latter soon grew tired of 
marching through the snow, and returned ; hut 
Ephraim, with his countrymen, pushed on till they 
reached the hostile camp. A skirmish ensued, in 
which eight of the enemy were shot, and the re- 
mainder, numbering thirty-six, taken. In the same 
month, (January, 1677,) this Indian soldier captured 
thirty more, who appear not to have been of the party 
at Rehoboth. 

Baylies relates the following incident connected 
with one of the skirmishes which occurred about this 
time : 

" Three Pequot or Mohegan Indians chanced to 
hear of a party of the enemy who were in Rehoboth; 
they went out and (the warriors being absent on a 
hunting excursion) captured some women and chil- 
dren, and an old decrepit man, whom, being unable to 
keep up with them, they resolved to kill ; the old man 
prayed earnestly that his life might be spared, and 
they, yielding to his request, suffered him to go. 
When the warriors returned from their hunt, this old 
man put them on the track of the Pequots ; anxious 
to recover their wives and children, the hunters pur- 
sued and overtook them ; one of the Pequots was 
killed, the other two barely escaped ; one of them 
was called Major Simon ; he was a warrior of great 
courage and prowess ; he challenged any five of his 
assailants to meet him in fair combat ; the challenge 

CO 

$ 



394 



king philip's war. 



was refused and they all attempted to seize him ; after 
firing he broke through the whole and escaped, with 
his companion. 

" Simon was said to have killed many enemies in 
single combat; once he leaped from a steep rock 
amongst a large body of them, and succeeded in cap- 
turing some and killing others ; at another time, while 
sleeping and dreaming of them, he awoke in season 
to discover several who were approaching to take 
him ; resolutely presenting his gun, he forced his way 
through the whole and escaped." 

By this time Church was again in the field; 
and, by carefully exploring the woods, he secured a 
large number of captives. Among one small party 
an old man whose venerable aspect attracted the cap- 
tain's notice. Being asked his name, he replied, " Con- 
science." " Conscience !" ejaculated Church ; " then 
the war is over, for that is what they were search- 
ing for, it being much wanted." The- remark shows 
that he was not insensible to the ingratitude of the 
colony toward him. The old man was sent to Swan- 
sey and sold into slavery. 

These detached incidents may appear fatiguing; 
yet, being connected with the war, they could not 
well be passed over, especially as they evince how 
utterly incapable were the Indians at this time of 
either attack or defence. A general pardon, couched 
in such terms as they could understand, would doubt- 
less have destroyed the animosity which perhaps still 
lurked among them, and rendered them firm friends 
to their conquerors. This appears from the conduct 



king philip's war. 



395 



of the Nipmucks, who, as early as the 6th of July, 
1676, sent a message, with a white flag, to the colo- 
nists, together with a letter, imploring peace. "We 
have been destroyed by your soldiers, (reads the 
letter,) but still we remember it now to sit still; do 
you consider it again, we do earnestly entreat you, that 
it may be so by Jesus Christ. O! let it be so! 
Amen, amen." " This surpasseth (says Drake) any 
thing in supplication that we have from the poor In- 
dians. They were truly sensible of their deplorable 
condition. Little to subsist upon — the northern and 
western wilderness so full of their native enemies, that 
a retreat upon those hunting-grounds was cut off — all 
the fishing places near and upon the coast, watched by 
their successful enemy — hence nothing now remained 
but to try the effect of an offer of unconditional sub- 
mission. This letter, (he adds,) however, must not 
be regarded as the language of the warriors ; it was 
the language of the Christian Indians in behalf of 
them and themselves." 

The letter was signed by five chiefs, one of whom, 
as is supposed, was Sagamore John. It was inef- 
fectual ; for the object of Plymouth was extermina- 
tion, not pardon. But the Indians renewed their 
solicitations, and in two more letters implored, in 
pathetic language, that peace might be granted. The 
answer of the council, as we have elsewhere remarked, 
was, that those who had begun the war, or who had 
been " barbarously bloody," should receive no mercy; 
but those who had been " drawn into the war" might, 
, on surrendering their arms, and promising to live 



396 



king philip's war. 



peaceably, "have their lives spared." With such 
slight encouragement as this, it cannot be a matter of 
wonder that the Indians delayed submitting them- 
selves to government, or that the few who possessed 
arms preferred death to being taken alive. Most of 
the Nipmucks, after their petition for peace was re- 
jected, fled northward and became lost among the 
tribes of Canada. In subsequent wars they joined 
the French, to whom, from their local knowledge of 
New England, they rendered great service. Those 
who were prevented from accomplishing so long a 
journey, sought protection of Uncas, by whom they 
appear to have been received with kindness. Some 
of the fugitive Narragansetts also took refuge with 
that sachem, and so escaped the immediate vengeance 
of the colonists. 

In the eastern parts of Massachusetts and Ply- 
mouth, some skirmishing took place after Philip's 
death, and a number of prisoners were secured. 
Among these were One-eyed John and Sagamore 
Sam, both of whom w r ere sent to Boston and exe- 
cuted. These examples alarmed Sagamore John, 
who, it will be remembered, had surrendered with a 
a number of his men, and he resolved upon attempt- 
ing an escape. Sentence of execution, which he most 
richly deserved, had already been passed upon this 
treacherous man, and how he escaped it has never 
been clearly ascertained. With twenty of his men, 
he was placed under custody of Captain Prentice; 
but, possessing a large share of cunning, as well as 
ingenuity, he contrived to escape to the woods. Two 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



397 



of his men were afterwards killed, and a few took 
refuge with Uncas. John's fate was never ascer- 
tained. 

The Saconet tribe, under Awashonks, were per- 
mitted to retain their lands, but their alliance with the 
colonies was of little benefit to them. In the year 1700 
there were but one hundred men belonging to the 
tribe, and they soon became lost among the more pow- 
erful tribes. The Mohegans, at the close of the war, 
probably numbered one thousand, while the Narra- 
gansetts, once one of the most powerful tribes in New 
England, were nearly exterminated. 

The war being closed, and the Indians either cap- 
tured or driven away, the governments of the united 
colonies proceeded to dispose of the conquered lands. 
Those of Showamit and Assonet were ordered by the 
Plymouth authorities, to be sold to pay the debts of 
Plymouth. All others were to be disposed of in the 
same manner, within two years, " so as to settle plan- 
tations thereon in an orderly w r ay, to promote the 
worship of God and our own public good." The 
proceeds of the sales w T ere to be divided between the 
towns in proportion to their disbursements during the 
war ; while the lands which should still be unsold, at 
the expiration of the two years, were to be divided 
among the towns in the same proportion. 

Scarcely, had these dispositions been made, than a 
dispute arose between Plymouth and Massachusetts 
respecting the jurisdiction of the Mount Hope terri- 
tory. Plymouth claimed it, because it joined her 
land, because it was entirely separate from Massachu- 

2 L 



398 



king philip's war. 



setts, because by the prowess of her people it had 
been conquered. Massachusetts claimed it, because 
she contributed most towards the war, because the re- 
moteness or nearness of the conquered ground should 
not effect the ultimate disposal of them, because she 
ought to receive some compensation for the large pro- 
portion of expense which had fallen to her share. 
The dispute once commenced, all possibility of settling 
it among themselves was at an end. To add to the 
perplexity Rhode Island preferred a claim, based 
probably on some negotiations or promises between 
the Mount Hope sachems and Roger Williams. As 
such a title was not founded upon conquest, the idea 
was scouted; but the despised colony persisted in it 
with great resolution. Massachusetts appealed to the 
crown, and all the other disputants followed the ex- 
ample. About the same time a new competitor ap- 
peared, one William Crown, of Nova Scotia. His 
claim was based on a prior claim of his father to the 
royal bounty, and was very nearly successful. The 
lands were, however, finally granted to Plymouth, by 
an instrument signed by the king himself. It is 
worthy of quotation : — " W r e have taken into our 
royal consideration, (says his majesty,) how that, by 
your loyalty and good conduct in that war, you have 
been the happy instruments to enlarge our dominions, 
and to bring the new territory of Mount Hope into a 
more immediate dependence upon us. We are, there- 
fore, graciously pleased to give and grant unto you 
the full and entire property of the said territory or 
scope cf land, commonly called Mount Hope, contain 



king Philip's war. 399 

irig, by common estimation, seven thousand acres, be 
the same more or less, for the sole and proper use and 
behoof of yourselves, and the rest of our said colony 
of New Plymouth, to be holden of us, our heirs and 
successors, as of our castle of Windsor, in the county 
of Berks, yielding and paying seven beaver skins 
each and every year, &c. r ' In consequence of this grant 
the lands in question were held by a different tenure 
from those of all other territory taken from the Indians. 

As all opposition had now ceased, the Plymouth 
government might have repealed or relaxed many of 
its stringent enactments, without danger to itself. 
But, from causes which it would perhaps be impos- 
sible to ascertain satisfactorily, at the present time, 
they not only failed to do so, but passed others, affect- 
ing both the colonists and the captured Indians. The 
more important of these are included in the follow- 
ing summary, taken from Baylies : 

" At the court which was holden in Plymouth in 
November, it was ordered that a list should be taken 
of every male in the colony between the ages of six- 
teen and sixty, without exception. Those who were 
judged by the towns or by the commissioned officers 
to be ' disabled for service,' were 1 to be listed by them- 
selves after the rest,' and the lists from the different 
towns to be furnished to the court. 

" The court directed that two or three men should 
be chosen in each town to take a more exact list of 
the rateable estates of the inhabitants between the 
twentieth of May next following and the June court, 
at which court the lists were to be presented. 



400 king philip's war. 

" Unimproved lands were exempted from taxation. 
Great particularity was required, and the ages of 
horses, cattle, sheep, and hogs, were to be expressed, 
and the value of each. The towns were to assemble 
after the lists were taken, and errors were to be 
corrected. 

"The council of war having, in July, 1676, pro- 
hibited all male Indian captives who were fourteen at 
the time of their captivity, from abiding in the juris- 
diction, the court confirmed the order, and directed all 
persons holding such captives to ' dispose of them out 
of the colony' before the first of December, on pain 
of forfeiting them to the use of the colony, and the 
constables were ordered to seize all the Indians re- 
maining in the colony after the day prescribed, and 
to convey them to the treasurer, who was authorized 
to dispose of them for the benefit of the colony. 

" They further recognized the engagement of Cap- 
tain Church to 'some five or six Indians,' that in case 
they did carry well, they should abide in the jurisdic- 
tion and not be sold to foreign places, and confirmed 
it 'excepting any of them should appear to have had 
a hand in any horrid murder of any of the English, 
particularly an Indian named Crossman, who is ac- 
cused to have had a special hand in the cruel murther 
of Mr. Hezekiah Willet.' 

" The Indian servants of the English were forbid- 
den the use of guns for fowling or other purposes, 
under the penalty of forfeiture. They further said 
that, 'forasmuch as by frequent and sad experience it 
is found that selling of arms and ammunition to the 



king philip's war. 



401 



Indians is very pernicious and destructive to the 
English,' it was therefore ordered that any who should 
sell, barter, or give, 'any guns or ammunition of any 
kind unto any Indian or Indians,' ' should be put to 
death.'' 

" It was further enacted that neither those Indians 
who had accepted the mercy of the government, or 
their posterity, should ever bear arms in the colony, 
and such Indians were directed to take up their 
abode ' from the westermost side of Sepecan River, 
and so eastward to Dartmouth bounds as they have 
occasion ; and not any of them to go any where off the 
aforesaid bounds or tracts of land, but by order of 
some magistrate of the jurisdiction, or he that is ap- 
pointed to have the oversight of them, and to attend 
such orders and directions as may at any time be di- 
rected to them from the government, and that for the 
present, three Indians, viz., Numpus, Isaac, and Ben 
Sachem, alias Petenanuitt, shall have the inspection 
of them to help them in their settlement and to order 
them the best they can, and that in matters most mo- 
mentous they have recourse to Mr. Hinckley for help 
and direction.' " 

The compensation allowed for those who had suf- 
fered by the war was moderate. The proceeds from 
the sale of Showamit were applied to the relief of 
maimed soldiers, and those in great distress, either 
through poverty or otherwise, which had been caused 
by the war. This fund was too small to relieve even 
a small portion of those who had been disabled, much 
less the numbers that had lost their all; yet it was 

26 



402 



king philip's war. 



rendered smaller by a portion being appropriated to 
defray " the just debts of the colony." 

It was at this time that the court took into formal 
consideration the disposal of their numerous prison- 
ers. By an act just quoted, even the slaves of the 
colonists were ordered to be disposed of without the 
colony, and most of them were shipped away. At 
this same period, Philip's wife and boy were sen- 
tenced, although we have told the story of their fate 
in a previous chapter. An account of the manner in 
which the other captives were disposed of would be 
merely repeating the oft-told tale of banishment, en- 
slavement, and execution. 

If we date the commencement of King Philip's 
war from the attack on Swansey, and consider it as 
closing with the meeting of the Plymouth council in 
September, we shall have for its continuance a period 
of rather more than fourteen months. During this 
time an amount of devastation was committed, which, 
compared with the population and the forces engaged, 
was equal to that which occurred in the revolution. 

According to the most reliable accounts, no fewer 
than thirteen towns were destroyed, while many more 
were greatly injured. Six hundred dwelling-houses 
had been burned, and a number of others greatly in- 
jured ; while the quantity of cattle and goods which 
shared a like fate, or were carried away, was im- 
mense. This must appear from a perusal of the fore- 
going narrative; and yet perhaps the half or the 
third of the losses actually sustained has not reached 
us. In most cases the Indians were prevented from 



king philip's war. 



403 



carrying away much, plunder, and were thus reduced 
to the necessity of destroying nearly every thing 
which fell into their hands. Hence, though their 
attacks were of short duration, they were accompa- 
nied with frightful havoc. 

Six hundred of the colonists had perished in the 
field, and these were principally young men, the 
pride and hope of the colony, whose loss was felt 
for many years. Many of them had, in a moment 
of enthusiasm, abandoned their newly created fire- 
sides, thus leaving by their death a young widow, or 
an orphan babe to lament their fate ; while some, still 
younger, were snatched from the embraces of their 
parents, of whom they had perhaps been the princi- 
pal support. The number not slain in battle, but 
either in their houses or at their daily labour in the 
fields, has never been ascertained. Trumbull esti- 
mates it at three hundred, but his statements are en- 
titled to little credit. The number was probably much 
less. 

The expenses of the colony formed a fruitful sub- 
ject of complaint during the war, and the principal 
subject afterwards. The Plymouth authorities were 
frequently, during its continuance, destitute of both 
men and means, thus leaving hostilities to be con- 
ducted solely by the towns. The government thus 
virtually resigned its power to the latter; and, ac- 
cordingly, we find that the general defence was fre- 
quently altogether at their disposal. It was this, in a 
great measure, which gives to this war a character of 
vagueness,— of a number of isolated incidents, rather 



404 



king Philip's war. 



than a connected whole, that renders it so difficult 
either to keep before the mind in a proper light, or to 
describe. At one time twelve towns, of which the 
principal were Scituate, Rehoboth, Barnstable, and 
Plymouth, disbursed nearly thirty-seven hundred 
pounds — a large sum of money for that day. Con- 
necticut and Massachusetts conducted the war in a 
more systematic manner; but their expenses were 
equally great in proportion to the population. The 
commissioners of the three colonies estimated the 
joint expenses at one hundred thousand pounds, but 
this statement is incredible. It is worthy of notice 
that some friends of the colonists in the city of Dub- 
lin, hearing of Philip's ravages, raised a donation of 
one hundred and twenty-four pounds ten shillings, 
and sent it over to relieve the distresses of the Ply- 
mouth colony. Connecticut contributed more than a 
thousand bushels of corn for the same purpose ; and 
Boston gave large quantities of similar articles as a 
donation. 

The population of the colonies at the commence- 
ment of the war is not known. At the close, it has 
been alleged to have amounted to fifty thousand souls, 
but probably thirty-five thousand is nearer the truth. 
It is said that nearly every family in Plymouth lost 
a relative ; yet it should be remarked that many who 
were taken prisoners by the Indians, and who were 
probably included in this estimate, were afterwards 
restored. 

The immediate effect upon the settlements attacked 
was disastrous in the extreme. We speak not of the 



king philip's war. 



405 



loss of life, goods, and money, but of the abandon- 
ment of towns and villages, and the necessary check 
to the advance of civilization. Most of the settle- 
ments in the Nipmuck country were broken up; 
the southern and western parts of Plymouth were 
partly desolated, and several of the villages on the 
Connecticut depopulated. Even the district near 
Boston was, for a while, kept in continual alarm ; 
and, but for the vigorous movements of Church, the 
people of Plymouth would probably have been forced 
to seek refuge among their northern neighbours. The 
labours of an age were destroyed in a few months ; 
colonial towns, almost populous enough to send out 
other colonies, were obliterated from the New Eng- 
land soil ; the struggle between the white man and 
the stubborn wilderness was suspended ; and civiliza- 
tion, which had advanced perhaps with too rapid 
steps towards the west, was suddenly driven back. 

Yet was all this but temporary. War has power 
to retard or suspend civilization, but not to destroy 
it. Fields may be desolated, towns laid waste, agri- 
culture arrested, property destroyed ; but peace must 
come, even if through no other means than the extir- 
pation of the combatants; and then greedy adven- 
turers will flock to obtain the cheap landholds ; in- 
dustry will clothe the ground in the garb of plenty, 
and rebuild the broken walls of town and cottage ; 
while the work-shop, the mart of commerce, and the 
commodious dwelling-house, will rise in triumph 
where formerly was heard the shout of battle, and the 
groans of dying men. 



406 



king philip's war. 



Philip's war had admirably prepared the colonies 
for this result. They had suffered, but they had ako 
triumphed ; and the triumph was of that sure nature 
which leaves for the victor no future apprehensions 
of his foe. That foe was extinct ; he had left the 
wilderness, and the hunting-ground, and the stream 
from whose waters he had often drawn his daily 
food, and the hills where his ancestors sat viewing 
their noble domain, when the coming of the white 
man was announced to them, to his conqueror. 
Though the colonists were at this time so poor that 
they could scarcely defray the expenses of govern- 
ment, yet there never had been a period in their 
history when they had more solid grounds of encou- 
ragement. Almost the whole country was before 
them ; and, what was a still greater advantage, there 
were no enemies to oppose their immediately taking 
possession. 

The colonists w r ere neither blind to these advan- 
tages, nor slow in improving them. We have seen 
that in November, while some of the enemy still lin- 
gered, the conquered lands were apportioned by the 
Plymouth colony among the towns ; and the inhabit- 
ants of the latter took immediate measures for avail- 
ing themselves of the advantages thus afforded them. 
A stream of emigration soon commenced flowing 
toward the west ; and, though occasionally checked 
by the subsequent troubles with the French, it was 
never again driven backward. The desolated lands 
were repeopled, the injured towns rebuilt, weak set- 
tlements strengthened, and villages or towns founded 



king philip's war. 



407 



in many places which had formerly been without the 
jurisdiction of the colonies. The Indian lands espe- 
cially were improved. Their richness, their facilities 
with regard to water, wood, and other advantages, 
and the partial manner in which some of them had 
been cleared and cultivated by the original proprie- 
tors, caused them to be bought with eagerness, so 
that, in a short time, no Indian lands were known 
within the jurisdiction of Plymouth, except such as 
had belonged to the friendly tribes previous to the 
war. 

The number of Indians who fell during the con- 
tinuance of actual hostilities is not known, although 
there can be little doubt that it was very great. Per- 
haps it would be useless to estimate the loss in a case 
of entire extirpation. The Indians were defeated, 
crushed, eradicated ; all their great chiefs were swept 
away, and they left behind scarcely any thing but 
their lands, their names, and their example, to act as 
a warning to the red man in all future time. This 
was the most startling and the most decisive effect 
of Philip's war. It was a struggle in which one 
race or the other must perish ; and that one, which 
w r as the harbinger of civilization, triumphed. From 
the period of victory, New England increased rapidly 
in strength and influence ; her population spread over 
the hills and plains where Philip's warriors once 
trod ; her sons, retaining the virtues of the old Pu- 
ritan, and rejecting his vices, became more liberal, 
humane, and enlightened ; and the design of Provi- 
dence, in founding a land of freedom which should 



408 



king philip's war. 



serve as an asylum for the oppressed of all other 
lands, had already begun to unfold. 

No Indian war which has ever occurred within the 
limits of the United States was ever attended with 
such disastrous results as this of King Philip. It is 
asserted that the advance of New England was re- 
tarded by it fifty years. But that advance, though 
slower, was none the less certain ; and its effects, in 
process of time, were entirely obliterated. 



SKETCH OF THE WAR IN MAINE AND NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
IN THE YEARS 1675 TO 1678. 



The war, of whose principal events we have fur- 
nished a narrative, was not confined to the four 
southern colonies of New England. It raged with 
considerable fury in New Hampshire and Maine; 
and even after the death of Philip and his captains, 
parties of Indians harassed the settlements in that 
quarter until 1678. But, although the commence- 
ment of these troubles was nearly simultaneous with 
those in Plymouth and Massachusetts, yet, as will 
appear, their cause was most probably different. 

It is not necessary, at this time, to give a particular 
account of the settlements in the provinces, Maine 
and New Hampshire. The latter was settled in 1623, 
at Dover and Portsmouth ; but its progress in pros- 
perity and population was retarded by repeated wars 

52 2M (409) 



410 



king philip's war. 



with the Indians, by disputes concerning its title, and 
by its nearness to Massachusetts. Still, at the open- 
ing of Philip's war, a number of thriving towns and 
villages had been built upon the coast, or along the 
rivers ; and the future state had already obtained suf- 
ficient strength and influence to contend vigorously 
for what she conceived to be her rights. Maine was 
far less flourishing. While under the patent of Ma- 
son and Gorges, it was involved in many disputes, 
nor did these wholly cease after its purchase by Mas- 
sachusetts. Nor were the natural advantages of the 
territory favourable to projects of settlement. The 
soil was rugged, the climate severe, the coast broken 
and of irregular outline, the forests were gloomy and 
apparently interminable. Some settlements were 
begun along the coast, of which the principal were 
York, and those in its immediate vicinity. These 
were, to a great extent, sustained by the fisheries 
along the coast, and to some extent, by serving as 
stopping-places to the fishermen going from New- 
foundland to Massachusetts. 

The reader may, therefore, easily infer that the 
aborigines of Maine and New Hampshire were a far 
more formidable foe than were those of the more 
southern colonies. This region had, in truth, been a 
place of refuge for the Indians of the west and south- 
west, during their many wars with the Mohawks ; 
besides which it afforded a favourite thoroughfare be- 
tween New England and Canada. Hence, many 
tribes had collected in this vast wilderness ; and, find- 
ing in it excellent game, as well as security against 



king philip's war. 



411 



their hereditary enemies, they adopted it as their 
home. While Maine remained a province of Massa- 
chusetts — a period of more than a century and a 
quarter — she suffered the resentment of these Indians, 
in revenge for the wrongs inflicted on them by the 
Mohawks, whom they believed to be incited to hos- 
tilties by the colonists. The acts of the settlers them- 
selves, during Philip's war, increased this resentment, 
and hence all attempts to conclude a permanent treaty 
with the Indians of Maine and New Hampshire were 
ineffectual. 

Belknap, in his History of New Hampshire, speaks 
as follows concerning the feeling which existed be- 
tween these savages and the settlers: — " Though the 
greater part of the English settlers came hither with 
religious views, and fairly purchased their lands of 
the Indians, yet it cannot be denied that some, espe- 
cially in the eastern parts of New England, had lucra- 
tive views only, and from the beginning used fraudu- 
lent methods in trade. Such things were indeed 
disallowed by the government, and would always 
have been punished if the Indians had made com- 
plaint. But they knew only the law of retaliation ; 
and when an injury was received it was never forgot- 
ten till revenged. Encroachments made on their 
land, and fraud committed in trade, afforded sufficient 
grounds for a quarrel, and kept alive a perpetual 
jealousy of the like treatment again." 

Such being the disposition of these tribes toward 
their white neighbours, we can account for their hos- 
tility on other grounds than that Philip induced them 



412 king Philip's war. 

to unite with him in a general war. But, independent 
of this general feeling of hostility, there occurred, 
about this period, some events which, even during a 
period of profound peace, must have tended in no 
slight degree to produce a rupture between the two 
races. One of these is worthy of narration, both on 
account of its important consequences and its interest- 
ing details. 

One of the principal men among the eastern In- 
dians, was a chief named Squando. His usual resi- 
dence was in the vicinity of the Saco River, and, as 
he possessed much influence over the Indians in that 
quarter, he was commonly styled Sagamore of Saco. 
This man was of a singularly enthusiastic tempera- 
ment, a believer in supernatural intercourse, and a 
noted powwow. He did not scruple to avail him- 
self of the revelations of Christianity, as well as the 
superstitions of his countrymen, in order to gratify 
his love for the marvellous ; yet, from the scanty no- 
tices we have of him, it would appear that he was 
not so much a knave as the dupe of his own imagi- 
nation. On one occasion he declared that God ap- 
peared to him in the form of a tall man, in black 
clothes, declaring to him that he was God, and com- 
manding him to abandon the use of liquor, to pray, 
to keep the Sabbath, and to attend the preaching of 
the gospel. But, as the God which appeared to him 
said nothing of Jesus Christ, Mr. Hubbard infers, 
that " it is not to be marvelled at, that at last he dis- 
covered himself to be no otherwise than a child of 
him that was a murderer, and a liar from the begin- 



king philip's war. 



413 



ning." Probably the tall man, dressed in black, was 
a missionary, which the Indian had met, either in the 
more southern colonies or in Canada. 

Squando, partly through his pretensions to divine 
favour, and partly through his natural abilities, which 
appear to have been considerably above mocliocrity, 
acquired great influence over all the eastern Indians. 
An unfortunate event directed the whole weight of 
that influence against the colonists. 

The -wife of Squando, while passing with her in- 
fant child along the banks of the Saco, in a canoe, 
was stopped by some rude sailors, who, having heard 
that the Indian children could swim as naturally as 
the young of the brute creation, overturned the frail 
bark by way of experiment. The child sank ; but the 
mother, instantly diving, succeeded in bringing it up 
alive. In a short time, however, the child died, and 
its death was imputed, by the Indians, to the treat- 
ment received from the sailors. From this time 
Squando was the mortal enemy of the colonists, and 
employed all his influence against them. " Some 
other injuries (says Belknap) were alleged as the 
ground of the quarrel ; and, considering the interested 
views and irregular lives of many of the eastern set- 
tlers, their distance from the seat of government, 
and the want of due subordination among them, it is 
not improbable that a great part of the blame of the 
eastern war belonged to them." At the same time 
it must be kept in view that these aggressions were, 
without exception, the acts of individuals beyond the 
superintendence of government. 

2m2 



414 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 



Thus every thing in this region was ripe for war 
when hostilities occurred at Plymouth. Yet so pow- 
erful is the effect of a long continued peace, that the 
first rumour of an actual rupture between Philip and 
the Plymouth colony filled all the eastern tribes with 
consternation. But suspense as to their course was 
of no long duration ; hatred took the place of fear, 
and sympathy for the cause of their countrymen as- 
sisted the desire of revenge which had been aroused 
by a sense of their own injuries. The crafty, the re- 
vengeful, the ambitious, urged the others to an open 
rupture ; so that, within twenty days after the first 
attack in Plymouth, the whole north-eastern portion 
of the country was in arms. 

It is highly probable that, had the settlers in this 
region acted with circumspection, the Indians might 
have been induced to remain quiet. But they began 
by demanding of the latter a surrender of their arms 
— -a measure as impolitic as it was unjust. As was 
to be expected, differences arose among the Indians ; 
but they agreed to comply, at least apparently, with 
the demand. In doing so they committed an act of 
violence on a Frenchman, which led to some recrim- 
ination, and finally to the robbing of the house of one 
Purchas, an old planter at Pechypscot. 

Meanwhile Squando used all his influence to 
foment disturbances, and to strengthen the Indian 
force in his neighbourhood. His men divided into 
small parties, and scattering themselves over the 
country, attacked travellers or isolated settlements. 
At Durham, on the Oyster River, they burned two 



king piiilip's war. 



415 



houses, killed two men, and secured two prisoners. 
In the road between Exeter and Hampton they killed 
one man and captured another. Shortly after, an 
assault was made upon the house of one Tozer, at 
Newichwannock. It contained fifteen women and 
children, but no men ; yet all except two were saved 
by the intrepidity of a girl of eighteen. Seeing the 
Indians approaching the house, she shut the door and 
stood against it until the others escaped, by another 
door, to the next house, which was better guarded. 
The Indians chopped their way into the house, struck 
down the girl with a tomahawk, and passed on in 
pursuit of the others, leaving her for dead. Two 
children, who could not get over the garden fence in 
time, were seized by the savages ; but the heroic girl 
recovered entirely from her wounds, and survived 
the war many years. 

On the following day, the Indians appeared several 
times, on both sides of the river, insulting the inhabit- 
ants of the village by words and gestures, and burn- 
ing two or three houses. They were fired upon with- 
out effect, and eight men pursued them until night, 
without obtaining any advantage. In a few days, five 
more houses were burned at Oyster River, and two 
men were killed. 

These depredations and insults, which were re- 
peated almost daily, filled the eastern settlers with 
indignation. Twenty young men, chiefly of Dover, 
obtained leave of Major Waldron, commander of the 
eastern militia, to pursue the enemy into the woods, 
and fight them in their own way. They accordingly 



416 



king Philip's war. 



scattered, and soon after some of them discovered five 
Indians near a deserted house, gathering corn, which 
they were preparing to roast on the fire. The militia 
were at too great a distance from the main party to 
communicate with them ; but they resolved to attempt 
the capture of the enemy. Two of them, creeping 
silently behind the house, reached a favourable po- 
sition, from which they rushed upon two of the In- 
dians, who were busy at the fire, and knocked them 
down. The other three succeeded in escaping. 

Notwithstanding the apparent insignificance of 
these sudden attacks, information of them spread 
rapidly, filling all the settlements with confusion and 
terror. Business of nearly every kind was suspended ; 
every man was ordered to take care of his own safety 
and that of his family ; small houses were deserted, 
and large ones were turned into garrisons ; the labours 
of the field were exchanged for those of the fortress, 
and men of all ranks, characters, and ages, were kept 
upon almost incessant guard. 

Partly to increase the ardour of these newly-raised 
soldiers, but chiefly to express their dependence upon 
the will and aid of heaven, the authorities of New 
Hampshire appointed the seventh of October as a 
day of fasting and prayer. Many of the settlers, how- 
ever, were so alarmed at the near approach of the 
savages to their villages, that they abandoned them, 
and fled to Massachusetts. 

On the 16th of October, a party of Indians made 
an assault upon a small settlement at Salmon Falls, 
in Maine, near where the town of Berwick now 



king piiilip's war. 



417 



stands. The garrison was commanded by Lieutenant 
Roger Plaisted, a man of great courage, and noted 
for his public spirit. On hearing the first rumour of 
an enemy he sent out seven men to make observa- 
tions. This party fell into an ambush, in which three 
were killed and the remainder driven back. This 
unexpected misfortune apprized the lieutenant of his 
danger, and he despatched an express to Major Wal- 
dron and Lieutenant Coffin, who were at Cocheco, to 
ask for aid. It could not be obtained ; yet Plaisted, 
though advised to retreat, resolved to defend himself 
to the last extremity. Had he been as prudent as 
he was brave, success would probably have crowned 
his efforts ; but his courage was of that rash nature 
which can see nothing but disgrace in a retreat, and 
finds more subject for commendation in the soldier that 
dies sword in hand, than in the one who, in the face of 
overwhelming numbers, saves his life by an ingenious 
stratagem. 

On the following day, the lieutenant selected twenty 
men, and taking with him a cart, marched with them 
tow r ard the spot where the three men had been slain. 
They had not proceeded far before they found them- 
selves in the midst of another ambush. In a moment, 
the Indians arose with loud shouts. The cattle that 
drew the cart, becoming affrighted, reared backward 
and ran toward the garrison ; and the men, panic- 
struck, fled in all directions. Plaisted, with three of 
his sons, disdaining to yield or fly, fought until he 
was killed, with his eldest son and one other. The 
remaining son received a mortal wound, of which he 

27 



418 



king philip's war. 



died in a few weeks. The death of this gallant sol- 
dier was much lamented. His leaving the garrison 
when a large number of Indians were near, was per- 
haps rash ; yet, had he been supported by his men, 
he might have checked the savages and obtained the 
bodies of his comrades. The Indians were certainly 
terrified at his bravery, for they retreated immediately 
to the woods. 

On the day after Plaisted's death, Captain Charles 
Frost arrived, with a small party, from Sturgeon 
Creek. The Indians having disappeared, he buried 
the dead without molestation, and made provision for 
the adjoining garrison. 

While the captain had been marching from Stur- 
geon Creek, the enemy directed their march thither, 
so that the next tidings he obtained of them was, that 
they had carried the war into his own district. A 
house had been burned, and two men killed, and the 
captain's house was marked for destruction. Leaving 
his men behind, Frost hurried home, but not in time 
to reach it before the attack commenced. Although 
it was partly surrounded, he reached the door, escap- 
ing ten shots which were aimed at him. There were 
but three boys in the house, the sons, as some state, 
of the captain ; yet, as soon as he reached it in safety, 
he began to utter words of command in a loud voice, 
encouraging, applauding, and directing his imaginary 
garrison, so as to be heard by the enemy. This 
ruse had the desired effect, and the Indians, after 
firin2 a few shots, retired. In a short time after- 
wards, Frost wrote to his commander, Major Wal- 




(419) 



king philip's war. 



421 



dron, for permission to garrison his house, which he 
was directed to do. 

Disappointed in their designs in this quarter, the 
Indians moved down the Piscataqua, killing and 
plundering as often as they found opportunity, until 
they arrived in the vicinity of Portsmouth. Here 
they were surprised by a discharge of cannon, which 
caused them to disperse. The militia, assembling 
hastily, followed their track over a thin covering of 
snow, until the savages retired into a thick swamp. 
Their provisions and other articles fell into the hands 
of the pursuers. Yet so little were the Indians dis- 
couraged, that they were soon in considerable force, 
and did considerable mischief at Dover, Exeter, and 
along the river Lamprey. 

In these small yet irritating attacks the autumn 
passed away. The loss of the colonists, considering 
the population, and the small number of their enemies, 
was very heavy. At least eighty persons were killed 
before the end of November ; and the amount of cattle 
and property destroyed was proportionably great. 
The distressed colonists received no aid from the 
south; for Massachusetts was too busily engaged 
with Philip to spare any of her soldiers out of the 
colony. The authorities, however, prepared for de- 
fence with much vigour ; and, though they were 
obliged to depend wholly upon the militia, yet they did 
not scruple to act on the offensive, by pursuing the 
enemy to their hidden retreats in the forest. 

For this purpose, Major-General Denison, who 
commanded the New Hampshire militia, issued orders 

2N 



422 



king Philip's war. 



for an immediate attack upon Ossapy and Pigwacket, 
the Indian head-quarters. His design was unexpect- 
edly frustrated. Winter set in earlier than usual, and 
with great severity, so that, by the tenth of Decem- 
ber, the snow was four feet deep in the woods. The 
men being destitute of rackets for travelling over the 
frozen surface, the expedition was abandoned. 

This unusual severity was, however, favourable to 
the colonists, since it deprived the Indians of their 
usual means of procuring food. Many of them were 
starved; and the survivors, unable either to continue 
hostilities or to obtain the necessaries of life, began to 
wish for peace. They accordingly waited upon Major 
Waldron, expressed great sorrow for what they had 
done, and asked him to mediate for them with the 
government. The major willingly complied, and, as 
the colonists were as anxious for peace as their ene- 
mies, the terms were soon agreed upon. The peace 
thus suddenly concluded remained inviolate until the 
following August, " and might have continued longer, 
if the inhabitants of the eastern parts had not been 
too intent on private gain, and of a disposition too un- 
governable to be a barrier against an enemy so irrita- 
ble and vindictive." To show the sincerity of their 
desire for peace, the Indians liberated all the captives 
they had taken in the war. 

After the death of Philip, a number of those who 
had been engaged with him fled to the east, hoping 
to find shelter there from their pursuers. But the 
agents of Plymouth and Boston were on their track; 
they were hunted from tribe to tribe, from forest to 



king Philip's war. 



423 



forest ; whenever one was taken he was publicly ex- 
ecuted, and the peaceable Indians were disturbed and 
insulted by the rude 'search after those who had fled 
to them for protection. Under these circumstances a 
cordial peace could not long be maintained. Some 
anecdotes of individuals are still preserved, which serve 
to show the tendency which this pursuit of the fugi- 
tives had to produce a rupture. Three Indians, 
named Simon, Andrew, and Peter, had been con- 
cerned in killing Thomas Kimbal, of Bradford, and 
capturing his family. Within five weeks after that 
event they voluntarily restored the wife and her five 
children. But, as the authorities were doubtful 
whether or not this were a sufficient atonement for 
the murder, they seized the three Indians and com- 
mitted them to Dover prison. The prisoners, ima- 
gining that their chance for mercy was slight, con- 
trived to escape, and joined their brethren at the 
east, and were active in all the principal attacks which 
were subsequently made upon the settlements. 

The good faith between the two races being again 
destroyed, hostilities were speedily recommenced. It 
is. not known which party made the first attack at 
this time, nor was any thing of importance attempted 
until Captains Hawthorn and Sill arrived from Bos- 
ton with two companies, commissioned to " kill and 
destroy all hostile Indians."' Waldron and Frost 
received like instructions. Hence, if both provinces 
had been enjoying profound peace, there could be 
little doubt that pretences would have been found to 
interrupt it. 



424 



king philip's war. 



No sooner had these troops reached their destina- 
tion than a scene of violence took place upon the pro- 
priety of which opinions have ever since been divided. 
The head-quarters of Major Waldron were at Co- 
checo, and at his house about four hundred Indians, 
from nearly every tribe, 'had assembled. They had 
concluded a peace with him, and were accustomed to 
speak of him as their friend and father. 

On the 6th of September, Sill and Hawthorn 
reached Cocheco at the head of their men. Seeing 
the Indians, and ascertaining that some of them had 
formerly been engaged in the war, these officers were 
on the point of attacking them, when the major inter- 
posed. The designs of government, he said, might 
be better accomplished by stratagem, and proposed 
to appoint a training for the next day, to be accom- 
panied by a sham-fight, after the English fashion. 
While it continued the Indians might be easily taken 
or shot, as circumstances should warrant. This plan 
met with general approbation, and the whole E.nglish 
force, including Frost's men, were mustered to form 
one party, while the four hundred friendly Indians 
were to form another, and begin the battle. 

Every thing being satisfactorily arranged, the pa- 
geant took place on the following day. The In- 
dians, delighted with the training exercises, entered 
upon the mimic action with great zeal, and w T ere 
easily induced to fire the first volley. Having suc- 
ceeded thus far, the major wheeled his men into a 
position to surround them, so that, before they had a 
suspicion of what was intended, they w r ere seized, 



king philip's war. 



425 



disarmed, and placed in security. Two hundred of 
their number, who had fled from Plymouth and Mas^ 
sachusetts to save their lives, were sent to Boston, 
where some were hanged, and the remainder shipped 
to the West Indies. The remaining two hundred 
were dismissed. 

Belknap, the historian of New Hampshire, makes 
the following observations upon this transaction : 

" This action was highly applauded by the general 
voice of the colony, as it gave them opportunity to 
deal with their enemies in a judicial way, as rebels, 
and, as they imagined, to extirpate those troublesome 
neighbours. The remaining Indians, however, looked 
upon the conduct of Major Waldron as a breach of 
faith ; inasmuch as they had taken those fugitive In- 
dians under their protection, and had made peace 
with him, which had been strictly observed with re- 
gard to him and his neighbours, though it had been 
broken elsewhere. The Indians had no idea of the 
same government being extended very far, and thought 
they might make peace in one place, and war in 
another, without any imputation of infidelity ; but a 
breach of hospitality and friendship, as they deemed 
this to be, merited, according to their principles, a 
severe revenge, and was never to be forgotten or for- 
given. The major's situation on this occasion was in- 
deed extremely critical; and he could not have acted 
either way without blame. It is said that his own 
judgment was against any forcible measure, as he 
knew that many of those Indians were true friends to 
the colony; and that in case of failure he should 

64 2N2 



426 



king Philip's war. 



expose tne country to their resentment; but had he 
not assisted the forces in the execution of their com- 
mission, (which was to seize all Indians who had 
been concerned with Philip in the war,) he must 
have fallen under censure, and been deemed accessory, 
by his neglect, to the mischiefs which might after- 
ward have been perpetrated by them. In this dilemma 
he finally determined to comply with the orders and 
expectations of government; imagining that he should 
be able to satisfy those of the Indians whom he in- 
tended to dismiss, and that the others would be re- 
moved out of the way of doing any further mischief; 
but he had no suspicion that he was laying a snare 
for his own life. It was unhappy for him, that he 
was obliged, in deference to the laws of his country, 
and the orders of government, to give offence to a 
people who, having no public judicatories and penal 
laws among themselves, were unable to distinguish 
between a legal punishment and private malice."* 

Two days after this affair, the two Boston compa- 
nies proceeded eastward, accompanied by some of the 
Cocheco garrison. One, Blind Will, an Indian saga- 
more, and eight of his men, acted as guides. The 

* Both the officers engaged in this affair were afterwards murdered by 
the Indians, in revenge for this act of treachery, as it was deemed by 
them. Waldron was surprised in his garrison at Cocheco, (June 27, 
1689,) and after bravely defending himself, was knocked down, dragged 
to his room, brutally mutilated, and finally killed with his own sword. 
He was eighty years old. Captain Frost, after a life of activity, spent 
in his country's service, was waylaid and shot, (July 4, 1697,) while 
returning from service on the Sabbath. He had risen to the rank of 
major, and was universally esteemed. 



king philip's war. 



427 



villages which they expected to burn had already been 
destroyed; the enemy were gone; and, the expedi- 
tion proving fruitless, the forces returned to Pis- 
cataqua. 

The point next selected for attack was an Indian 
fort, situated on the Ossapy ponds. This work was 
of great strength, fourteen feet high, and had been 
built several years before by English carpenters, hired 
for the purpose. The officers from Massachusetts 
believed that they could either surprise the Indians 
while in the fort, or at least destroy their winter pro- 
visions. To accomplish one of these purposes, or 
both, was the object of the second expedition. 

The troops marched on the first of November. 
The weather was cold and stormy; but the compa- 
nies, being well supplied with clothing and other 
necessaries, were able to proceed without experiencing 
much inconvenience. After travelling four days 
through a rugged wilderness, and crossing several 
rivers, they reached the fort. It was entirely vacant ; 
* nor was an Indian to be seen in all the adjacent coun- 
try. Notwithstanding their disappointment, the two 
captains did not pursue the enemy, as the weather 
was severe and the snow deep. A considerable party 
was sent to a distance of eighteen or twenty miles 
above; but, after crossing frozen ponds, and moun- 
tains covered with snow, they abandoned the search 
as useless, and the whole force returned to Newich- 
wannock, nine days after their departure. 

In connection with this expedition, and some 
attempts made about the same time to procure 



428 



king Philip's war. 



peace, Belknap has the following rather curious 
remarks : 

" They had been prompted to undertake this expe- 
dition by the false accounts brought by Mogg, an In- 
dian of Penobscot, who had come in to Piscataqua, 
with a proposal of peace; and had reported that a 
hundred Indians were assembled at Ossapy. This 
Indian brought with him two men of Portsmouth, 
Fryer and Kendal, who had been taken on board a 
vessel at the eastward ; he was deputed by the Penob- 
scot tribe to consent to articles of pacification ; and 
being sent to Boston, a treaty was drawn and sub- 
scribed by the governor and magistrates on the one 
part, and by Mogg on the other, in which it was stip- 
ulated, that if the Indians of the other tribes did not 
agree to this transaction, and cease hostilities, they 
should be deemed and treated as enemies by both 
parties. This treaty was signed on the sixth of No- 
vember ; Mogg pledging his life for the fulfilment of 
it. Accordingly, vessels being sent to Penobscot, 
the peace was ratified by Madokawando, the sachem, 
and two captives were restored. But Mogg, being 
incautiously permitted to go to a neighbouring tribe, 
on pretence of persuading them to deliver their 
captives, though he promised to return in three days, 
was seen no more. It was at first thought that he 
had been sacrificed by his countrymen, as he pre- 
tended to fear when he left the vessels ; but a captive, 
who escaped in January, gave a different account of 
him ; that he boasted of having deceived the English, 
and laughed at their kind entertainment of him. 



king philip's war. 



429 



There was also a design talked of among them to 
oreak the peace in the spring, and join with the other 
Indians at the eastward in ruining the fishery. About 
the same time it was discovered that some of the Nar- 
ragansett Indians were scattered in the eastern parts ; 
three of them having been decoyed by some of the 
Cocheco Indians into their wigwams, and scalped, 
were known by the cut of their hair. This raised a 
fear in the minds of the people, that more of them 
might have found their way to the eastward, and 
would prosecute their revenge against them." 

The uncertainty attending the designs of the In- 
dians, augmented by various rumours, again filled 
the settlements with alarm. Mogg's treachery was 
deemed a sufficient excuse for renewing hostilities; 
and the threatened danger was deemed so great that 
the Massachusetts government resolved upon a winter 
expedition. Two hundred men, including sixty Na- 
tick Indians, were soon enlisted, and sailed from Bos- 
ton the first week in February, 1677, under command 
of Major Waldron. A day of prayer had previously 
been appointed for the success of the enterprise. 

On reaching Casco, the major had a conference 
with some Indians concerning peace. It ended in a 
skirmish, when several of the enemy were killed or 
wounded. Reaching Kennebec, he built a fort 
there, and left a garrison of forty men, under Captain 
Davis. At Pemaquid he held a second conference 
with some Indians, who promised to deliver their cap- 
tives on the payment of a ransom. Part being paid, 
three prisoners were delivered; and it was agreed 



430 king Philip's war. 

that the conference should be renewed in the after- 
noon, when all arms were to be laid aside. At 
this meeting the Indians demanded twelve beaver 
skins for each captive, besides some liquor, by 
way, we suppose, of entertainment. Only Waldron, 
Frost, and three others, were on shore, the remaining 
men of the expedition being in the vessels. While 
the parties were engaged in conversation, the major 
espied the point of a lance under a board, and imme- 
diately began to search for other w T eapons. Discover- 
ing some, he seized one of them, and leaping about in 
a furious manner, brandished it in their faces, de- 
nounced them as perfidious wretches, and asking if 
they intended to seize his goods and then kill him. 
The Indians, as might be supposed, were thunder- 
struck ; but one, more daring than the others, seized 
the weapon, and tried to wrest it from Waldron's 
hands. A tumult ensued, in which the major nearly 
lost his life. Captain Frost seized an Indian named 
Megunnoway, noted for his crimes, and dragged him 
into a vessel. A squaw caught up a bundle of guns, 
and escaped with them to the woods. Waldron's 
party, seeing the danger, landed, when the Indians 
scattered in all directions. In the pursuit, Sagamore 
Maltahouse, and six other Indians, were killed, five 
were capsized in a canoe and drowned, and five others 
were captured. One thousand pounds of beef formed 
part of the booty. Megunnaway was shot. 

The whole number of Indians concerned in this 
affair was twenty-five. " Whether the casual dis- 
covery of their arms, which they had agreed to lay 



king Philip's war. 431 

aside, was sufficient to justify this severity, may be 
doubted ; since, if their intentions had really been 
hostile, they had a fine opportunity of ambushing or 
seizing the major and his five attendants, who came 
ashore unarmed ; and it is not likely that they would 
have waited for the rest to come ashore before they 
opened the plot. Possibly this sudden suspicion 
might be groundless, and might inflame the prejudice 
against the major which had been already excited by 
the seizure of their friends at Cocheco some time 
before." 

While returning, Waldron found some guns, boards, 
anchors, and other articles, at Kennebec, which he took 
with him ; and at Arrowsick island he shot two more 
Indians. On the eleventh of March he reached Boston 
without the loss of a man. 

This expedition, though conducted with much 
ostentation, was of but little advantage to the colo- 
nists. The Indians, instead of being intimidated, 
were enraged, by what they considered a second act 
of treachery on the part of Major Waldron ; and their 
numbers were large enough to render their desire of 
revenge formidable. Accordingly, rumours of the 
renewal of hostilities reached Boston very soon after 
the return of the expedition. The colonial council 
were perplexed, for the emptiness of the treasury, 
caused by the war with Philip, rendered it impossi- 
ble to afford permanent aid to the eastern provinces. 
In this dilemma a plan was proposed, whether in 
council, or from any other source, is unknown, by 
which it was believed the war might be stopped, and 



432 



king philip's war. 



ample vengeance taken upon the enemy. The Mo- 
hawks of the Hudson might be induced to pour an 
army of their dreaded warriors upon the northern 
savages. The mere mention of their name had fre- 
quently decided quarrels, or caused an enemy to flee ; 
and, could their assistance be obtained, they might 
perhaps exterminate a troublesome foe, and open all 
the north-west to English settlers. So the colonial 
authorities reasoned. 

Nor was the hope of obtaining the assistance of 
this powerful tribe based on slight or insufficient rea- 
sons. They were the allies of the English ; for a 
period long before the landing of the Pilgrims they 
had waged bloody wars with the tribes of Maine and 
of all New England ; frequently they had threatened 
to exterminate these weaker tribes, and sometimes 
had nearly accomplished their threat; they had taken 
an active part against Philip ; and they were willing 
at all times to indulge their propensities for murder and 
injustice, upon the least pretence, or upon no pretence. 

But though probability was on the side of success, 
difficulty arose from another quarter. Would it be 
lawful to seek assistance from these Mohawks, they 
being heathen? This question troubled such con- 
sciences as were weak among the counsellors. But 
it was satisfactorily answered by appealing to Scrip- 
ture. Abraham (the interpreters of the Sacred Writ- 
ings replied) had entered into a confederacy with the 
Amorites, which proved serviceable to him in recover- 
ing Lot from the hands of their common enemy ; and 
with this argument, cavilling ceased. 



king piiilip's war. 



433 



Accordingly, Major Pynchon, of Springfield, and 
one Richards, of Hartford, were commissioned as 
messengers to the Mohawks. They were received 
with great civility, treated kindly, and, on proposing 
the subject of their embassy received a cordial assent 
to it from the whole Mohawk council. The princi- 
pal chiefs expressed the most bitter feelings against 
the eastern* Indians, and rejoiced at the opportunity 
afforded them to gratify it. 

Having thus obtained the assistance of these In- 
dians, the colonists expected with confidence the 
speedy termination of the war. The Mohawks were 
not slow in arriving at the scene of hostilities ; and, 
with the usual impetuosity of the Indian, they at once 
proceeded to kill and scalp. But, for a while, they 
confounded the friendly Indians and the hostile to- 
gether, so that their early services were of but little 
use to their allies. Their first proceedings, on arriv- 
ing in the vicinity of Maine, are thus described by 
Belknap : 

li Some parties of them came down the country 
about the middle of March, and the first alarm was 
given at Amuskeeg Falls, where the son of Wonolan- 
set, being hunting, discovered fifteen Indians on the 
other side, who called to him in a language which he 
did not understand, upon which he fled, while they 
fired nearly thirty guns at him without effect. Pre- 
sently after this they were discovered in the woods 
near Cocheco. Major Waldron sent out eight of his 
Indians, whereof Blind Will was one, for further in- 
formation. They were all surprised together by a 

28 



434 



king philip's war. 



company of the Mohawks; two or three escaped, the 
others were either killed or taken; Will was dragged 
away by his hair, and, being wounded, perished in 
the woods, on a neck of land, formed by the conflu- 
ence of Cocheco and Ising-glass Rivers, which still 
bears the name of Blind Will's Neck. This fellow 
was judged to be a secret enemy to the English, 
though he pretended much friendship aftd respect; 
so that it was impossible to have punished him, with- 
out provoking the other neighbouring Indians, with 
whom he lived in amity, and of whose fidelity there 
was no suspicion. It was at first thought a fortunate 
circumstance that he was killed in this manner ; but 
the consequence proved it to be otherwise ; for two 
of those who were taken with him escaping, reported 
that the Mohawks threatened destruction to all the 
Indians in these parts without distinction ; so that 
those who lived in subjection to the English grew 
jealous of their sincerity, and imagined, not without 
very plausible ground, that the Mohawks had been 
persuaded or hired to engage in the war, on purpose 
to destroy them ; since they never actually exercised 
their fury upon those Indians who were in hostility 
with the English, but only upon those who were in 
friendship with them; and this only in such a de- 
gree as to irritate, rather than to weaken or distress 
them. It cannot therefore be thought strange that 
the friendly Indians were alienated from their Eng- 
lish neighbours, and disposed to listen to the seducing 
stratagems of the French ; who, iu a few years after, 
made use of them, in conjunction with others, sorely 



king philip's war. 



435 



to scourge these unhappy people. The English, in 
reality, had no such design ; but the event proved 
that the scheme of engaging the Mohawks in our 
quarrel, however lawful in itself, and countenanced 
by the example of Abraham, was a pernicious source 
of innumerable calamities." 

The Mohawks found the savage chiefs of Maine as 
well prepared for hostilities as themselves. The 
power of the tribes in this quarter had never before 
been tested ; and the haughty savages of the west dis- 
covered that the mere mention of their name could 
not drive them through the woods into Canada, as 
had been imagined. Early in the spring, some of 
the garrison on the Kennebec, while attempting to 
bury the bodies of some of their friends, which had 
lain under the snow all winter, were surprised and 
killed. The remainder of the garrison removed to 
Piscataqua. At the same time a company of fifty 
militia and ten Natick Indians, under Captain Swaine, 
marched to the relief of that place, as the Indians 
threatened an attack. Some houses were burned in 
Wells, in Kittery, and in Portsmouth ; but in April a 
young woman, who had been captured, made her 
escape, and reaching Cocheco, informed the garrison 
of the position of the enemy's quarters. In conse- 
quence of this information, three parties were de- 
spatched to seize three positions, by one of which the 
Indians would be obliged to pass. The savages, un- 
aware of the stratagem, moved to one of these places 
and were completely surprised ; but, owing to the 
blunders of the militia in firing, the advantage was 



436 



king Philip's waii. 



lost, and the entire party of Indians passed the am- 
bush and escaped. 

In May, parties of Indians attacked the garrisons at 
Wells and Black Point. At the latter place, Mogg, 
who led the attack, was killed, and his followers re- 
treated hastily to their canoes. On Sunday, the 27th, 
six friendly Indians, who lay drunk in the woods near 
Portsmouth, were surprised by twenty of the enemy, 
and killed. During the remainder of the day, the 
savages hovered around the town, but without attempt- 
ing to attack it, notwithstanding the inhabitants were 
at church. After securing some prisoners, they crossed 
the river, killed some sheep at Kittery, and proceeded 
toward Wells. Fearing, however, an attack from the 
Mohawks, they liberated their prisoners, and retired 
toward the woods. 

Meanwhile the Massachusetts government had been 
making great exertions to raise a force sufficient, with 
the assistance of the Mohawks, to end the war. Many 
difficulties were in the way ; yet, in June, forty sol- 
diers and two hundred Natick Indians, under Captain 
Swett, sailed for the northern provinces. They 
reached Black Point in July, and immediately pre- 
pared for an expedition into the interior. At the 
Taconick Falls, on Kennebec River, the savages had, 
as was reported, six forts, well furnished with ammu- 
nition. These the captain determined to destroy; 
and, as some Indians had been seen in the vicinity 
of Black Point, he immediately landed, with a small 
party. The number was increased by the inhabitants 
to ninety ; and, with this force, he marched toward 



KING rHILIp's WAR. 



437 



the place where the Indians were supposed to be. 
They were soon discovered on a plain, divided into 
three parties. Swett divided his men in like manner, 
and advanced to charge them. The Indians, with 
their usual cunning, retreated leisurely for a distance 
of two miles, pursued by the militia, who thus unwit- 
tingly placed themselves beyond the reach of aid 
from the fort. No sooner had the enemy attained 
this object, than they wheeled around, and attacked 
their pursuers with such fury as threw them into 
confusion. A scene of distress and horror ensued. 
The militia, mostly young men and inexperienced* 
attempted to flee. Their retreat was cut off. Driven 
back to their former position, many abandoned them- 
selves to despair, and by their cries and gestures 
made useless the bravery of others. Their brave 
leader strove in vain to restore order; but, his efforts 
proving ineffectual, he placed himself at the head of 
the more resolute, and endeavoured to cover the re- 
treat. The savages pursued, charging the fugitives 
with rare courage and fatal effect. The line of retreat 
was traced with the dead and wounded ; but the gal- 
lant Swett, with a handful of brave men, stood be- 
tween the militia and the savages, animating those 
around him, and regardless of his own safety. When 
near the fort he fell, covered with wounds ; and, of 
ninety men with which he had marched, but thirty 
escaped without a wound. The terror-stricken gar- 
rison made no attempt to avenge their comrades, and 
the savages, emboldened by their success, proceeded 
to the river, where they seized twenty fishing vessels, 

2o2 



438 



king philip's war. 



with their crews, which had put into the eastern har- 
bours during the night. 

This was one of the most severe blows inflicted on 
the eastern provinces during the war. It spread 
terror throughout New England, and made even the 
government more desirous of securing peace, than of 
continuing hostilities with a foe which had proved so 
formidable. Hence, notwithstanding the preparations 
which had been made in the early part of the year, 
and the expectations to which they had given rise, 
nothing was done by the settlers from the time of 
Swett's fall until the arrival of Major Andross, in 
August. That officer took possession of the land 
which had been granted to the Duke of York, and 
employed some soldiers in building a fort at Pe ma- 
quid, for the purpose of defending the neighbouring 
country against the encroachments of foreigners. 
These men were met by the Indians in the most 
friendly manner. The fishing vessels, and fifteen 
prisoners, were restored, and a partial truce agreed 
upon. During the succeeding autumn and winter 
they remained quiet, living in the greatest harmony 
with the garrison. Had the forces previously sent 
from Massachusetts acted in a spirit of conciliation, 
as did this garrison, employed by Andross, instead 
of breathing death and extermination, the eastern war 
would have ended in a month. 

Nothing having occurred during the winter to inter- 
rupt the friendly feelings between the late belligerents, 
the attention of the colonists was directed, in the 
spring, to the conclusion of a permanent peace. 



A 



KING PHILIP S WAR. 439 

Major Shapleigh, Captain Champernon, and Mr. 

Frier, were named as commissioners; and in April, 

1678, they met Squando, and other chiefs, at Casco. 

Both parties were sincerely desirous of peace. The 
colonists had learned that, instead of being able to 
seize all the fugitives from the south, and execute 
them at pleasure, they were on the brink of another 
war, which might prove more troublesome than King 
Philip's. The Indians were tired of protracted hos- 
tilities, and desired a renewal of trade with the whites, 
which w T as highly advantageous to them. As a proof 
of their sincerity they brought with them all the pri- 
soners remaining in their hands. 

Such being the disposition of the negotiators, they 
were not long in arranging terms of peace. It was 
stipulated that the inhabitants should return to their 
deserted settlements, on condition of paying one peGk 
of corn annually, for each family, by way of acknow- 
ledgment to the Indians for the possession of their 
lands, and one bushel for Major Pendleton, who was 
a great proprietor. Thus the colonists actually agreed 
to hold their lands by feudal tenure from the Indians, 
acknowledging the latter as the lawful proprietors of 
the soil. Few treaties between the two races were 
ever made on such terms; and the fact serves to show 
the extremity to which the settlers had been reduced. 
"The terms of peace were disgraceful, but not unjust, 
considering the former irregular conduct of many of 
the eastern settlers, and the native propriety of the 
Indians in the soil. Certainly they were now masters 
of it, and it was entirely at their option, whether tho 



440 



king Philip's war. 



English should return to their habitations or not. It 
was, therefore, thought better to live peaceably, 
though in a sort of subjection, than to leave such 
commodious settlements and forego the advantages of 
trade and fishery, which were very considerable, and 
by which the inhabitants of that part of the country 
had chiefly subsisted. " 

Thus a harassing and desolating war, which had 
continued nearly three years, was brought to a happy 
conclusion. The reader of our slight sketch must 
have remarked two facts concerning the Indians. 
The first is the spirit with which they entered upon 
the contest. They appear to have resolved from the 
first not to surrender their rights; and, though their 
operations were on a smaller scale than those of 
Philip, they displayed no less courage, and met with 
success. At the same time that they were engaged 
with the colonists, they baffled the bloody designs of 
the Mohawks, and forced the warriors of that tribe to 
return to their territories without having accomplished 
any thing of importance. 

The second fact is the lenity exercised by the 
savages toward their prisoners. We have no au- 
thentic accounts of their torturing or wantonly killing 
any that fell into their hands ; and this is the more 
remarkable, when we consider how many of them 
were seized in the early stages of the contest, and 
either executed or enslaved. We may infer from 
this, that, had care been taken to conciliate these 
eastern Indians, all difficulty with them might have 
been averted. 



king piiilip's war. 



441 



We close this chapter by the following quotation 
from Belknap ; it contains some incidents as rare as 
they are interesting : 

" It was a matter of great inquiry and speculation 
how the Indians were supplied with arms and am- 
munition to carry on this war. The Dutch at New 
York were too near the Mohawks for the eastern In- 
dians to adventure thither. The French in Canada 
were too feeble, and too much in fear of the English, 
to do any thing which might disturb the tranquillity ; 
and there was peace between the two nations. It was 
therefore supposed that the Indians had long pre- 
meditated the war, and laid in a stock beforehand. 
There had formerly been severe penalties exacted by 
the government, on the selling of arms and ammuni- 
tion to the Indians ; but ever since 1657, licences had 
been granted to particular persons to supply them oc- 
casionally for the purpose of hunting, on paying an 
acknowledgment to the public treasury. This indul- 
gence, having been much abused by some of the east- 
ern traders, who, far from the seat of government, 
were impatient of the restraint of law, was supposed 
to be the source of the mischief. But it was after- 
ward discovered that the Baron de St. Castine, a re- 
duced French officer, who had married a daughter of 
Madokawando, and kept a trading-house at Penob- 
scot, where he considered himself as independent, 
being out of the limits of any established government, 
was the person from whom they had their supplies; 
w T hich needed not to be very great, as they always 
husbanded their ammunition with much care, and 

66 



442 



king Philip's war. 



never expended it but when they were certain of 
doing execution. 

" The whole burden and expense of this war, on 
the part of the colonies, were borne by themselves. 
It was indeed thought strange by their friends in 
England, and resented by those in power, that they 
made no application to the king for assistance. It was 
intimated to them by Lord Anglesey, ' that his ma- 
jesty was readjr to assist them with ships, troops, am- 
munition or money, if they would but ask it;' and 
their silence w T as construed to their disadvantage, as 
if they were proud, and obstinate, and desired to be 
considered as an independent state. They had in- 
deed no inclination to ask favours from thence ; being 
well aware of the consequence of laying themselves 
under obligations to those who had been seeking to 
undermine their establishment; and remembering 
how they had been neglected in the late Dutch wars, 
when they stood in much greater need of assistance : 
the king had then sent ammunition to New York, 
but had sent word to New England, ' that they must 
shift for themselves and make the best defence they 
could.' It was therefore highly injurious to blame 
them for not making application for help. But if 
they had not been so ill treated, they could not be 
charged with disrespect, since they really did not 
need foreign assistance. Ships of war and regular 
troops must have been altogether useless ; and no one 
that knew the nature of an Indian war could be serious 
in proposing to send them. Ammunition and money 
were necessary, but as they had long enjoyed a free 



king philip's war. 



443 



trade, and had coined the bullion which they imported, 
there was no scarcity of money, nor of any stores 
which money could purchase. The method of fight- 
ing with Indians could be learned only from them- 
selves. After a little experience, few men in scat- 
tered parties were of more service than the largest 
and best equipped armies which Europe could have 
afforded. It ought ever to be remembered, for the 
honour of New England, that as their first settle- 
ment, so their preservation, increase, and defence, 
even in their weakest infancy, were not owing to any 
foreign assistance, but, under God, to their own mag- 
nanimity and perseverance." 




The following extracts from William Hubbard's 
" Narrative of the Troubles with the Indians" pub- 
lished in 1677, will afford a specimen of the contem- 
porary accounts of King Philip's War : 

EFFECTS OF AN ECLIPSE ON INDIAN MILITARY 
TACTICS. 

" On the 20th of June a foot company under Cap- 
tain Daniel Henchman, with a troop under Captain 
Thomas Prentice, were sent out of Boston towards 
Mount Hope; it being late in the afternoon before 
they began to march, the central eclipse of the moon 
in Capricorn happened in the evening before they 
came up to Napensee River, about twenty miles from 
Boston, which occasioned them to make a halt for a 
little repast, till the moon recovered her light again. 

" Some melancholy fanciers would not be per- 

2P (445) 



446 



king philip's war. 



suaded, but that the eclipse falling out at that instant 
of time was ominous, conceiving also that in the cen- 
tre of the moon, they discerned an unusual black spot 
not a little resembling the scalp of an Indian. 

"As some others not long before imagined they 
saw the form of an Indian bow, accounting that also 
ominous, (although the mischief following was done 
with guns, not bows,) but the one and other might 
rather have thought of what Marcus Crassus, the 
Roman general, going forth with an army against the 
Parthians, once wisely replied to a private soldier, 
that would have persuaded him from marching at the 
time because of an eclipse of the moon in Capricorn, 
'that he was more afraid of Sagittarius than Capri- 
cornus,' meaning the arrows of the Parthians. (ac- 
counted very good archers,) from whom, as things 
then fell out, was his greatest danger. But after the 
moon had waded through the dark shadow of the 
earth, and borrowed her light again, by the help 
thereof the two companies marched on." 

INDIAN CRUELTY. 

" Captain Beers, for fear of the worst, with thirty 
men, was sent up to the said Squaheag, with supplies 
both of men and provision, to secure the small garri- 
son there; but before they came very near to the 
town, they were set upon by many hundreds of the 
Indians out of the bushes, by a swamp-side, of which 
Captain Beers (who was known to fight valiantly to 
the very last) with about twenty of his men were there 



APPENDIX. 



447 



slain by this sudden surprisal ; the rest flying back to 
Hadley. Here the barbarous villains showed their rage 
and cruelty more than ever before, cutting off the 
heads of some of the slain, and fixing them upon 
poles near the highway ; and not only so, but one, if 
not more, was found with a chain hooked into his 
under jaw, and so hung up on the bough of a tree, 
(His feared he was hung up alive,) by which means 
they thought to daunt and discourage any that might 
come to their relief, and also to terrify those that 
should be spectators with the beholding so sad an 
object : insomuch that Major Treal with his company, 
going up two days after to fetch the residue of the 
garrison, were solemnly affected with that doleful 
sight, which made them make the more haste to bring 
down the garrison, not waiting for any opportunity to 
take revenge upon the enemy, having but a hundred 
with him, too few for such a purpose. Captain Ap- 
pleton going up after him, met him coming down, 
and would willingly have persuaded them to have 
turned back to see if they could have made any spoil 
•upon the enemy ; but the greatest part advised to the 
contrary, so that they were all forced to return with 
what they could carry away, leaving the rest for a 
booty to the enemy. ' 



PALISADOES AGAINST THE INDIANS. 

"The English plantations about Hadley being for 
the present set a little at liberty by the Indians draw- 
ing off, like seamen after a storm, they counted it the 



448 



king philip's war. 



best courage to repair their tackling against another 
that might be next coming; wherefore the inhabit- 
ants concluded it the safer way to make a kind of 
barricado about their towns, by setting up palisadoes, 
or cleft w T ood about eight feet long, as it were to break 
the force of any sudden assault which the Indians 
might make upon them, which counsel proved very 
successful ; for although it be an inconsiderable de- 
fence against a warlike enemy that hath strength 
enough, and confidence to besiege a place, yet it is 
sufficient to prevent any sudden assault of such a 
timorous and barbarous enemy as these were ; for al- 
though they did afterwards in the spring break 
through those palisadoes at Northampton, yet as soon 
as ever they began to be repulsed, they saw them- 
selves like wolves in a pound, that they could not fly 
away at their pleasure, so as they never adventured 
to break through afterward upon any of the towns so 
secured. " 




